MASKS

Masks, they are not things

They’re live walking around

They strut always before us

On speaking faces found!

Smiling masks coolly cover

Scheming minds behind

Planning mayhem, murders

Posing poised to be kind  

Employing words, pictures

To wreck someone’s name

Masks clean and gleaming

Hide a stinky dirty game

Confined not to theatres

Float in unlikely places

Holy, heavenly, hallowed

Grounds have their races

Cows are mooing of core

Birds are chirping of soul

Man, the crown of creation

Spreads falsehood fume foul                           

In glad Garden of Eden

Slithers a slippery snake

Venom hiss on forked tongue

Aiming God’s heaven to take!

Save, save, my Guardian Angel

Given to me by God Lord

Dispel air, polluted an’ unfair

Stand guard with your sword!

          

                   ***

Xavier Bage                                     

Fri,26 Feb 2016