Jogging the Mind

Hello all,

I read Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Mask of the Red Death” about a week ago and although the story doesn’t focus on this element, I was intrigued by the idea of a faceless individual. Then, I started thinking about someone without any of the 5 senses and what sort of serenity that must mean. So, below is that poem–the first nonpolitical one in a minute. Anyway, let me know what you think, if you decide to read it.

Faceless, Without Sense 
Head made entirely of its fore
Wrinkles emotional facades 
From a strangely construed 
Countenance, faceless and
Graceless, it escapes this 
World into its own, within,
Not without, it shapes its 
Selfish pleasure free from
You and me, deceit and
Destruction—only its own 
Construction of dysfunction
Could cloud its mind's eye;
Though it is unblinded by 
Depression or unhealthy 
Obsession because it is
Without outward oppression, 
Lacking context for hatred 
Because it cannot be berated,
It has only marinated in a 
Mind minding its own business,
Unaware of others’ interests 
And dedicated to its own, so that
Happiness isn’t fleeting, but
A feeling that is constantly fulfilling.