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Behind the mask ππ, a mystery dwells,
A face unseen, a tale it tells.
A shield of silk or woven thread,
A veil where whispered secrets spread.
In shadows cast, where eyes alone
Speak louder than a voiceβs tone,
The mask conceals, yet oft reveals
The hidden wounds that time may heal.
It hides the smiles, it cloaks the tears,
It muffles hopes, it shrouds the fears.
Yet through the guise, a truth persists,
A soulβs pure light, that still exists.
For masks are fleeting, moments brief,
A passing guard of joy and grief.
But what remains, when masks are gone,
Is courage, love, and lifeβs sweet song. ππππ 18 replies
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