• This face is but a mask to cover the sins and evils of another. But this other is very close, so very close, he's like a ghost, haunting those I love the most.

    A ghost of a former self, formed by the memories upon the shelf, body with happiness radiant, spirit resilient, but now empty with nothing filling it.

    Dark deeds done, nowhere to run, no place to hide the blood red gun. White walls stained crimson with fear, demons sure to appear, in the darkness and the light, unable to hide from bitter cold fright.

    This face is but a mask to cover the sins and evils of another, another that is like a brother, taking home in this soul of mine.