A mask was his shield,
A very poor shield it was,
It offered little protection
From the hard stares,
But it was all he had.
So very shallow,
Hollow and empty
They seemed to him,
All unable to understand
Blind to the gentle genius.
All they saw was a twisted corpse
A hideous and inhuman face,
So they shunned him,
All unaware of the bleeding heart
Beneath the cold mask.
