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He stays hidden behind his mask of lies

His long and hypnotic fingers weave magical tales

He spreads his wings and soars high to sing with the nightingales

As he holds back the tears forming in the deep black holes that are his eyes

His melodic voice speaks only the words of the wise

From behind the bars of his cold and dismal jail

At night, you can hear his never-ending sobs and wails

With each passing day, another part of his tortured soul dies

Day and night he spends locked up in his chosen cell

He knows he will never be able to walk freely among crowds

His gruesome facade isolates him from the world, yet his body is just a shell

It is inside where he is well endowed

And although he may be forced to reign in hell

Not every angel can dwell in the clouds