In a tired moment, he removed his mask.

Weary from the decades of pretending...there was a sigh.

With wonder, his eyes studied the fake face.

An actor from the beginning -

Lost in a chrysalis of reality -

Never changing, just perpetual metamorphosis.

Hidden pain like a blank stare.

He is worn, bent and withered.

There are cracks in the foundation -

It was flawed from the beginning.

Basing every decision on a lie, there is no redemption.

With or without wearing it...he is the mask.

The only separation is a break from actuality.

A tender hand about to caress -

Looking yet never seeing -

Deep breaths.

Why...