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.