Adrift on Whispers

We all have a face 
I simply Stitch mine into position 
Each thread in its proper place 
An ode to the ordinary in covert opposition 
 
We all have a face 
And I, A smile to hide contrition 
Surreptitiously Sutured In lieu of sincerity 
In betrayal of the featureless, my fleshless condition 
 
We all have a face 
On mine, an expression to conceal resentment 
Watercolor over wonder for each passing visage 
Wearing authentic skin with contentment 
 
We all have a face 
And I, cosmetics to obscure fear 
The quiescence of kinship elusive 
For the counterfeit, a life austere 
 
We all have a face 
Behind mine, guilt to bind its aspect 
Gilded in the forges of doubt 
A golden mask of muted affect 

What a beautiful mirror
Our reflection cradled within
A portent to perfection
Auspicion  and omen
Consumed and silver-gilt

What a beautiful mirror
And in it you and I
The clouds a fault of our own making
The haze purchased by time
A poignant patina
Yet hidden by its luster
The memory therein never to fluster

What a beautiful mirror
It's glory undiminished
The golden promise once reflected
Left lead by alchemy unfinished
No fault to the silver
For the failure of man
Good fortune passing through his fingers
Like so many grains of sand

What a beautiful mirror
Stained by my reflection
A wraith of passing furies
Gazing into cascading recollection
Delving infinitely in search of a face
Fondly remembered, ever forgotten
No purchase therein to Sate
The somber and misbegotten