Letras
("No! this face is only a mask a wicked ornament,
Illuminated by an exquisite grimace,
Look and see, atrociously controlled,
The real head, and the sincere face
Turned back under the shadow of the face which lies."
Charles Baudelaire )
He is profanity in sanctity's guise
An alias assumed I do recognize
In their eyes, his cause
When enticing and cunning in impact
Is still a criminal and evil act.
So look for him vainly, He,
The incarnation of evil: And by
Arrangements of magical nature
He turns unrecognizable even to the
Experienced eye.
You obsessively pursue him
Falling to see, that was why he came to be
One who annihilates with such impunity
He appears your friend, but
The Saint hides many Satan's
He's contemptuous, you know
Of your God given stupidities
He calls you in question which
Affected modesty and create
Of you an object of derision
You think him to be the pariah
Whom company does exclude
But in the midst of all frenzy
He is, feasting in a transitory mood
Passion is strict lord
He is also its humble slave
When bereft of common ways,
He strides before you on water
He makes clowns of kings,
Charms the guests, rides the ball
Is the master of disguise
Prince of the thousandfold face
The charming jester's smile
Which invites reason to demise,
And imaginations rise
Inscrutable yes, venting his spleen
Somewhere night and day between
Is the master of disguise