Master of Disguise

("No! this face is only a mask, a wicked ornament,
        illuminated by an exquisite grimace,
        Look and see, atrociously contorted,
        The real head, and the sincere face
        Turned back under the shadow of the face which lies"
        Charles Baudelaire)

        He is profanity in sancity's guise
        An alias assumed I do realize
        In their eyes, his cause -
        when enticing and cunning in impact
        is still a criminal and evil act

        So look for him vainly,
        He, the incarnation of magickal nature
        He turns unrecognizable even to the experienced eye

        You obsessively pursue him
        Failing to see, hat was why he came to be
        one who annihilates with such impunity

        He appears your friend, but
        the Saint hides many Satans
        He's contemptous, you know
        of your Godgiven stupidies
        He calls you in question with
        affected modesty and create
        of you an object of derision

        You think him to be pariah
        whom company does exclude
        But in the midst of all frenzy
        He is - feasting in a transitory mood

        Passion is a strict lord
        He is also its humble slave
        When bereft of common ways,
        He strides before you on water
        He makes clowns of kings,
        charm the guests, rides the ball
        Is the master of disguise

        Prince of the thousandfold face
        the charming jester's smile
        which invites reason to demise
        and imaginations rise
        Inscrutable yes, venting his spleen
        Somewhere night and day between
        Is the master of disguise