The Ominous Wait

The dance of life on the symphony of love; magnificent, surreal emotions as the man dances with the innocent face. When was the last I saw you in such blissful state, when was the last I saw the truthful smile dance across your face?

Deep within, even I am happy, even the Mask whom you so deplore this very moment feels happy for the child who has grown up to find the eternal happiness in the arms of the woman he so loves. I am not an evil Mask, I am just truthful to my creation. I play the game I was once summoned upon to play and I mince no emotions as I ensure that your lies remain wrapped under the veil of the Mask.

Even the most arduously impassive of the Masks develop a degree of attachment to the face they cling to; so do I. I feel happy to see you in love today; I admire your desire to love the face with all your childlike passion. Yet as I see you strain towards attaining the love of your life, my thoughts wander towards the once open pages of your life; the times when both you and I had made ourselves and each other believe that you had finally fallen in love. Even then the sweep of love was immense, the pull of desire so dramatic that I had felt left behind in its wake and yet those trysts with love now remain consigned to the backyard of your colourful past. What would you do now that you could not do then? What part of yourself will you be willing to surrender to acquire the elusive love that you had refused to part with then?

How much longer before you bring the Mask out; how much longer before the need to hide and conceal and secure your make believe world overtakes the selflessness of love?

How much longer before the Man surrenders his hard earned love to the comforts of being led and controlled by the Mask?

I shall wait.