Soliloquy, episode II

Am I a discard of the Mankind
or an idolized tyrannic Saviour?
A broken Messiah you can't find
unless you tatse an inner Failure.

And if I stare at my Body
in front of the Mirror of Truth,
all I can see is a Parody
with a Funeral passing through.

I see a container with a smile,
just a mood of disgust,
it will be gone in a while
as the blown dying Dust.

It is a natural Damnation
to hide ourselves with a Doll,
wishing for a Reincarnation
so our Masks, in the end, fall.