MASK WITHIN THE SHADOWS
by Sorana Lucia Salomeia

I see it hanging on the wall…, so cold, so impersonal… dead and yet alive somehow.

It hangs there in the shadows and smirks…

“Who are you?” – the question breaks out into never ending echoes.

But there is no answer.

It hangs there still and motionless like a frozen ancient vision on the cracked wall.

I see it, but I can’t distinguish its features. Yet, I know it is there, grinning and watching every single movement around.

Its eyes – two daring moon – stones burning in frozen flames.

“Who are you?” – the desperate question runs into the air again, coming up against silent mirrors – mutual reflections of eternal reality.

The strange laughter pierces the curtains of torturing silence … that is all that ears can now hear – a raucous voice that floods the chamber.
I try to draw closer to it, but the same strange distance keeps walking in between us…

The game of lights and shadows hides the image of the hypocrite mask… It is unreachable.
No one can see it, but only hear it and feel its presence from behind the thick veil of lying, insincere smog.

But the smog can’t prevent the wall the mask hangs on from collapsing…

A deafening noise suddenly explodes in the numb air.

The mask is now just a dark memory, a cloud of dust that has drowned in an unexpected ocean of light, broken into smithereens spread chaotically on the ground.


Copyrighted © Sorana Salomeia, Iasi, Romania