Originally posted by SkepticOverlord
you already have your masks
Yes I do, and it was earned through searing fire for I have seen a man flying on a Walrus, it is nice of you to notice. Thank you.
but for fun I'll bite, let me see what is the mask,
Something to hide scars of the damage from evil, that suffering is shown to all, then they to wear the mask empathising with the loss of the one who
woke them up, and learn it is a loss they actually all share for they all have suffered, then when freedom strikes it is removed. And we learn it was
those that fell that were with them all the time.
It is the sign of an assembly of many, the faceless masses all the same when they see the truth. Yet it was individuality that was crushed by the
state, so they will embrace the tools of unity, then when the state falls, they will cast off the mask and individuality returns.
The mask is Internet, for it kept V from love, from contact, yet not from communication, its need came from the machinery of war and power, but became
the tool of the people, it gives an illusion of anonymity, but in reality it is easily seen through, eventually the ones without the tool, are shown
the strength, it has arose, they do not stop them, their leaders have fallen to the one who did not burn, or more from the power of his truth.
Knowledge of corruption, V learned his knowledge at the end of doctors needle, from a corrupt state, confined and examined. He learned of the love of
one he had never known, a crimson rose with a dream of the salt flats, He walked through the fire, he was purified and given a chest of steel. But
his new disfigured state, the state of which caused ridiculed and lack of belief, was seen as unacceptable. Although he survived, he had felt the
flames from the darkness. So he donned the mask, the knowledge of what was learned, a knowledge that allowed him to overcome the reaction from the
rest, unaware they had lit the fire, the fire fueled by their fear, they now would not turn from him. The price of the knowledge was his task, one
that was his to bear, for he knew to much. His scars his guide, wearing the knowledge he chose, he released the fear of the one not unknown, one he
would rather just hold. His knowledge broke into her, as he accepted his coarse. She was free, he was lost. A brief dance, a reminder of what might
have been. The 5th of November, it was this one, the one that he had chose to share all he had, this one that laid the crimson rose. This new rose
was the one that completed what he alone could not, nor would not.
or something like that.
[edit on 25-9-2007 by Redge777]