Without Inner Face.

Crumble, crumble, crumble down.
These moss-brick, suffocating, musty walls.
Release the heaviness from my throat...
That I may peer through the Drapery Falls.

I want to know what makes them up.
You know. The shadows. Sly curtains of the world.
Why do they gather together at night?
Let pure light vanish, and blackness unfurl?

Where are their faces? Their smiles? Their scorns?
Have they wandered away, never to return back?
Into even darker states of mind...
Or lesser light in cities of black?

It's time, I suppose, to find one of my own.
And follow myself into those realms unknown.

If Death awaits to sink me in...
I will wear the face when I begin.