My story (since you cared to ask)
Is this: I never wore a mask
And it made some people irritated:
My disguise could not be penetrated
Because it was just…no disguise.
They disbelieved. Antagonized,
They attempted my mask to displace–
and in so doing, removed my face.
And I gained a freedom seldom known:
To choose what features to call my own.
What kind of gaze, what twitch of mouth;
What expression to wear if things go South.
So I carved a mask made out of Bane
Of Opposite, Reverser: Pain.
Dear hunters, add this to your risks:
Cruelty breeds Basilisks.
But the thoughtless righteous self-correct
And due rewards they’ll thus collect.
If by my gaze, they’re pierced and caught
They should rejoice:
They found the face they sought.