Wednesday, 25 September 2013

The Forged Identity

And he too painted his face
In shades of white and red,
Forgetting somewhere the enchanted grace
A smile for his ugly facade –  
Running after a dream
An empty frame of infamy,
For hate triumphed and reasons shed
The punishment of a sin;
For he build walls against his wishes
But nothing could fortify the fragile,
As he weeps deep within
Solely among his inner self,
A self he could no longer conceive
For he wears a mask to deceive
A shattered heart none could see;
And then he gulps down, the last drink,
Harnessing his fury, he gallops on his horse
To a far, a very far land,
Where he could easily cry
Far away from where no one could see,
Yet his soul suffers, urges a return,
Looking deep into his lonely heart, he sees,
A disgraceful life;
An instance he made of it,
And the rain comes falling down
Weakening the intoxication,
Revealing the real self, devastating the forged identity,
Fading away the fake smile gently…