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My Expressions
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The Mask: A Poem on Façades

He swayed in the wind,
Moving Swiftly,
Speaking elegantly,
Shining with potential,

Contaminated his mind was,
Constrained his hands were,
Desire can kill,
When uncontrolled,

The perfect person,
Destined to be great,
A king,
In his own world,

No one aware of his quiet rage,
The voices in his head,
Whispering to him,
Life is cruel to the greats,

Always with a mask on his face.

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VEDANT KUMAR

10, NA

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