Rare Elixir

There are devils in me,
  and they harshly tread
  ruining my naive bed.
I watch at night the demon
  wandering by and ask,
  "When will you take my mask?"
I'd surrender it,
  but the world has horror
  for the maskless that glower
And cease not from anger,
  dread, and ev'ry burden
  that none have unladen.
Hope is the only
  elixir I know,
  rare and hard to sow
The leaves from which it's made,
  concoted with care
  and with no time to spare.
Rise from the bed of death;
  welcome what life might bring,
  and embrace your mortal spring.

Featured image: ‘An Actress with a Mask,’ by Eva Gonzales, image in the public domain.

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