Metaphors for the ones who burn

3/5 - Masquerade [REGALIS I]

The dull peasant-girl wishes
to be appealing, courteous, and royal.
The gifted courtly girl wishes
to be unseen, unnoticed, unheard.

The lowly ambitious man wishes
to make his voice heard,
to spread his image.
The hopeless prince wishes
for death,
for his image has already been spread,
and he cannot freely be himself.

The king's fortune teller wishes
for truth,
for his soul is corrupted by lies.
The king wishes
for lies,
for in lies he maintains power.

The baker girl wishes
to be cared for,
rather than to only care for others.
The princess wishes
to care for others,
though she will never consciously know this,
as gluttony and greed are always her path
of least resistance, anyways.

The mocked jester wishes for suicide,
same as the hopeless prince.
Two sides of the same coin,
none realizing the universality of humanity.
Whether ugly and fool,
or handsome and proud,
those within the story are trapped.
It drains soul to degrade one's self for another's sake,
the damned jester,
and it drains soul to mock others for one's sake,
the damned prince,
as the root cause of the prince's laughter is
his own insecurity and turmoil,
which daily he blindly feeds,
as he will never live up to the aggrandized vision
that the fortune teller has cast upon the land for him.

To play a part in royalty is to be relevant,
but to exist outside royalty is to be free.
Who is more alive?
The relevant,
or the free?

The relevant are alive in the minds of the people,
yet they exist to stomp on the people,
and do not exist for their own joy,
for their joy is directly linked to the attention
and energy given by their subjects.
It takes power and energy to be better than others,
to be a pedestal,
to be relevant.

It takes acceptance and joy to be on the outskirts,
to be free...
The free are alive to themselves,
and exist only for themselves
and for their own good.
Life was always selfish,
but the free are selfish
without harm to the people,
and without dependence on the people.

However,
I've been to the ball before.
The illusion of story,
the masquerade,
captures my soul.
I am no longer
my wretched self.
Rather,
I am a stereotype.
I am a character.
I have a part
and a destiny.

At the ball,
I sell my individualism
to act in a larger story
which benefits me.
When I masquerade,
I am never the peasant.
I ensure that the parts I play
are aggrandized and dreamcatching.

While I enjoy being a free man,
I chase chapters of royalty.