The Sanctity of Mask

What is your name?

I do not have a name.

I'm the spirit of our ancestors

wrapped in thick skin of many colours,

covering the scars of my sins,

covering the brokenness in my bones.

Would you like to know more?

What is your occupation?

I know to kiss the ground

multiple times with my feet.

I dance through seven rays of light.

I kiss into the rhythm of songs and drums

with different kinds of acrobatics.

Would you like to see one?

Why do you wear a mask?

If only the spirits of our ancestors

can absorb obscenities.

If only the spirits of our gods

can ingest human iniquities.

If only the spirits of our elders

can see nudity as destiny.

Would you let your enemies see you?

What about your voice?

I do not speak of anything.

I roar. And fire burns on my right.

I roar. And fire burns on my left.

Both fire kissing in between my soul,

whispering and forging haven for my deeds.

Would you like to hear their whispers?

When do you intend to stop?

Orunmila, the spirit of destiny

is yet to come with my good fortunes.

Odu, the spirit of communication

is yet to come negotiate with my people.

Maybe when they both arrive,

I would stop committing unalterable sins

in the presence of hidden scenes.

Would you really like to see me stop?

Will you eventually reveal your face?

I do not know the next song.

I do not know my next dance steps.

I do not know my next scene and stage.

I will follow fate.

So be it.