A Non-Story

Free lancer impostor
Persuader and full time traitor
Donning porcelain masks
and magazines,
the trade is in the lie.

Informing all of their terrible sin
while retaining all my secrets within.
It is a beautiful life based upon myself
My guilt, my health and the fork tongued self.

Any more release and we might have pain.
Any more trouble and you can be sure of my name.

I wear the mask to show the same
Nameless villains within,
that dabbles in the art of self,
the pious beginnings we all say
Are the blessings of which we win.

Wearing my hat in all its glory,
I recite the words
To my greatest story
Of elves and birds and swords,
of the wicked tongues
and acts of men.
Yes, a blessed curse of contradictory rates.