Lost Islands

Inside each of us,
Waiting to be released
Is the beast from which society
Imprisons our true selves,
The ones that our consciences correct
In order to keep the masks over our faces
And the bars in front of our prison cells.
Wouldn't it be great
If society transformed into nature?
No inhibitions, no sentiments;
The wings that were clipped when we fell to Earth
Suddenly regrown after the flood dried out,
Evaporating the moats that isolate us
On little islands where only a select few
Are able to travel upon,
And let us take off the masks
That keep us on the assembly line.
Should you venture onto my island,
I shall invoke a compartment
Of my personality to benefit yours,
A new mask each of us can use,
One among hundreds of others
Tucked away with costumes inside
A wardrobe of names.