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The Mask and the Beast

The Devil you know

By Stephen A. RoddewigPublished 12 months ago • 2 min read
Photo by Neil Rosenstech on Unsplash (cropped)

The mask is cold.

It stifles, it smothers.

But the world is cruel.

It shields me from the others.

.

The mask is cold.

It stifles, it smothers.

But the mask is stable.

It hides me from the others.

.

“To feel sadness is weakness.

Depression is a failure of the will.

Despair is a lack of manliness.”

Yet these maladies plague me still.

.

Like the mateless wolf,

into the night, I want to howl.

But none would hear the call,

so weakly, from the shadows, I growl.

.

The Darkness stalks me.

I feel its cold breath upon my neck.

For the mask I reach.

But all the while, the Darkness infects.

.

“You are not alone,” they say.

“There are many among us the same way.”

This clutches at an even greater fear, deep in my soul:

we are all drowning in the black waters without a lifeboat.

.

Red eyes stare at me from the shadows,

fangs glistening in a sickening grin.

With every doubt, every fear it grows.

Every shout, every tear is its kin.

.

We are hunted, you and I.

Everywhere with us it shall go.

Its aim is not for us to die,

but for us to wish it so.

.

“The mask! The mask shall save me,”

I cry in the face of the beast.

Yes, it hides my vulnerabilities

from those who scorn.

But also those who could remedy.

.

The shield grows burdensome,

and I grow tiresome.

It offers calmness, stability,

but emptiness, futility.

In the balance hangs my sanity.

.

My blemishes are concealed

but with them my true self.

Who I am, I can no longer tell

within this voluntary hell.

.

The red eyes gleam at my confusion.

I can feel them even now.

My constant comrade now disillusion.

To fight it all, I know not how.

.

“To feel sadness is weakness.

Depression is a failure of the will.

Despair is a lack of manliness.”

Yet these maladies plague me still.

.

The mask cracked, I am lost.

Moments of happiness fleeting.

Without a purpose, without a cause,

I admit my defeat.

.

Author's Note

Written a decade ago. I am much better now 😌

And the first step to making it here was to refuse to wear the mask anymore.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Stephen A. Roddewig

Author of A Bloody Business and the Dick Winchester series. Proud member of the Horror Writers Association 🐦‍⬛

Also a reprint mercenary. And humorist. And road warrior. And Felix Salten devotee.

And a narcissist:

StephenARoddewig.com

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    Written by Stephen A. Roddewig