67 – Dreams

It was thin enough
To be almost invisible.
You had to run your fingers
On the golden surface to feel it.

But one you found it
You couldn’t stop seeing it.

The thin hairline crack
Running down the middle
Of the beautifully perfect face
The world admired.

Sometimes we heard other voices
Coming from within.
Their whispers trying to be heard
By those outside the mask.

“–This isn’t true.”
They warned us.
But we didn’t want
To listen.

We were in love
With that beautiful face
And the stories it told us
Of bravery and freedom.

Until the day
We found the crack.

Before our very eyes
It became wider
And deeper.

As it gaped even wider
We finally discovered
The million cracks
It hid within.

Old fractures
That never really healed
Suddenly burst open
And ripped the mask away.

A thousand pieces
Rained upon each one of us
And ripped, like shrapnel,
Thru our hearts.

We found the face of death
Had always stared at us
Behind the golden mask.

The other voices
No longer whispered.

“–We tried to warn you.”
They cried out in anguish.

“–This is the face
That has always stared at us
Within the mask.”