Every moment and each, I put on;
For every heinous torts that darken
The lives of my angels by my kind, my kind that fake the fame
I put on, involuntarily, the mask of shame.

Superior, admired, in demand, the greatest of all
For my kind are men, my kind that howl 
The falsehood of superiority so lame
And for it all I put on, dolefully, the mask of shame.

My kind a jury, a jury of my angels
Where my kind the judge, my kind that strangles 
And fulfill their cheap thirsts, for no act that’s tame
In despondency I put on, ruefully, the mask of shame.

Do I deserve? The mask of shame? 
Or the angels: mothers, sisters and daughters whose life they inflame 
Will my kind ever recon? That they themselves are to blame
Or will I decipher to corpse? With the Mask of Shame!!

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