ObservationI stand at the heart of the revelry, yet unseen.
A mask shields my face, but it cannot hide the weight I bear.
In my arms, the remnants of a past, a wound time refuses to close.
Is it a burden? A secret? A truth too heavy to name?
The world moves on, wild and unchained.
Yet I remain still, a shadow within the masquerade.
If they saw what I carry, would they turn away?
Or have I already disappeared beneath the mask?0.1639%
