He was faceless
the man of many names
he visited me in dreams
and sought me out
with no eyes and no mouth
nor ears or nose or sense of touch
the blinded man approached
and as he took my hand
the fires of doom fell upon me
burning cinders flared
the crisps of life shriveled
faltering, crumbling
it smelled of smoldering ashes
born from false identities
and received by young minds
burnt offerings that made promises
but delivered no proof
Yet his soundless words were convincing
his eyeless face stared me down
and his mouthless flesh spoke to me
and composed a symphony
of life as he saw fit
the faceless one and I
are all but the same man in flesh
we weave the same fortunes of life and death
but our minds are never content
