Saddled Partner
Mask #367 of 613 — a wearable identity from X. Masquerade (2025), the sixth chapter of LUCI by Sam Spratt.
- Category
- Network
- Material
- Copper
- Adornments
- Horns
- Region
- Monument Garden
- Attendee
- Masked Guest
Observation
In past lives, I donned the masks, A shadow fit for lacquered grins. But now they flinch from what I’ve cast, Tangled souls submerged in sin. Beware the realm of hollow men, The faceless throng in borrowed skin, Swapping shrouds with withered hands — Cracked and black like oaken wilt. I cradle you where none may come, Between the fever dreams and dusks — A prism for my dying sun. Suspended in the lurid glow, The lingering wraiths Of broken fate. The masks still dance. The hour is late.
Replies by this mask
- Welcome back, brave chronicler. Sit softly with your pain, Salve your wounds with solitude. The monument’s architect Was once a sojourner like you, Mired in the muck of A game he could not win. The masks now dance. Let the masquerade begin.
- There’s nowhere I'd rather be Than in your calming grace The endless shifting shadows Sap the strength from all they trace Yet here, beneath the quiet weight Of words unmeant & forms undone, The hour bends, the dance is spun My love, the masquerade's begun
- Find me in the slipstream, Where two will become three. Protect us from the creeping blight That strangles memory. Faded blossoms bear no fruit, The hour wanes for masks unclaimed. Yet from scorched earth, a blessed birth, And in the ash, a fate is framed.
Revision
Echoes reign in empty halls I shelter you in cloak and sage Where revelry's memory fades The masks lie still The choice is made.