There are the living.
And there are the not.
Creation is delicate.
As each has its forte.
We breathe the same air.
Our innates, we flare; If we care.
And our time; we choose, when to share.
We are the living.
And we can make believe: in.
Even if we are deceiving.
We are the men.
The men of continuous changing.
The men of shuffling.
The men of many faces.
We are the men of continuous changing and shuffling of many faces.
We are the men of truth.
We are the men of proof.
We are the men of choice.
And we are the men: poised.
We are the men in living.
We are the men in bodies.
And that of shadows.
We are the men of light.
We are the men even out of sight.
And we are the men in cover; that of dark hallows.
We are the men of strength.
We are the men of meekness.
We are the men in the lights of gents.
Yet, we are the men with hearts of dents.
We are the men with happy faces.
We are the men at smiling paces.
Yet, we are the men with the sadden cases.
We are the men of past in history.
We are the men of present symphony.
And we will be the men in the future of mystery.
We are the men of godly light.
Yet, we are the men in demonic sight.
We are the men of pure and right.
But we can be men with lust and pride.
We are the men that remain the same.
But we are also the men that can twist to a minute-hand change.
We are the men with a single face.
But we owe to ourselves to change the shade; each and everyday.
For when the time is due, we ought to obey.
We are men with single faces.
We are men of all races.
Yet, we are men with many mask laces.
And we change at every single pace.
On every single case.
We all own one face.
But our conscience owns many mask faces.
We all wear mask everyday.
The mask that suits every picture in time.
The mask that depicts our emotions with the intentions of our divine.
Whether in good or bad.
Strength or meekness.
Truth or deceitfulness.
We wear many; everyday.
Which mask it is; we wear; at a split of time; whether day or night.
Cloudy or bright.
We do use the cover of a mask; every time.