Wells with Masks

As I look around
As I look around me, I see these people
I see all these people, I see
Their masks.

I see them holding hands-
I see them smiling smiles
I notice paint dripping
Off their faces, onto the sheets
They wear.

It’s such a pity
The persons we see
The persons we seek
Those persons
Are wells.

Wells dug out of their own visages
Wells reaching into the depths of their souls.
Wells, whose bottoms untouched by light-
Wells are they-
They take in all-
They give up none.

And like so many other wells before them
They shall dry up and die.
Even then, shall we mourn
Their passage into the eternal Void-
As whose images they were born.

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