An Iron Mask

Behind the wretched iron mask,
I have this dull and lonesome task,
To count the rivets ‘round my eyes,
Until all sanity in me dies.

The smell of rust it fills my nose,
With the scent of putrid rose,
And the lice upon my head,
Will be my mourners when I’m dead.

Heat in summer burns my skin,
Erasing likeness of my kin,
Upon his throne before the court,
Who locked me in this hateful fort.

Behind the lovely iron mask,
I bear this heavy and lofty task,
To count the rivets ‘round my eyes,
While all sanity in me dies.

In the shadows of my mind,
There are two lights I hide behind,
Filling world with blinding light,
Giving me dreadful fright.

Here the rats they sing for me,
With a royal and pompous glee.
The roaches throw a jolly ball,
Better than in any lordly hall.

Behind my regal iron mask,
I take this great and noble task,
To count the rivets ‘round my eyes,
Now all sanity in me dies.