I am Others and they are me

Hunted by masks, Not thieves

Dig deep in the dwell of wine, guilt of the seeds

He Speaks and raises his glass

And drinks to, shadows of enslaved

As, we fall like all the Coloured leaves

I am others and they want me

See life as it serves me

Behind, curtain are stories, scripted in veil

The sound, of standing ovation

That too will soon fade, and become just a memory