Act someone being several.
But not in life:
It hides what you call our own blast:
Only the shallows know,
By heart,
The words for the same unhealthy song.
Strike me, indeed, with your art,
The art of lying your decay.
It proves what one can be.
Oh, tasting me the subtle decadence of both:
Style and appearance.
Who wants to be consistent
In such a failed world?
The commonplace of a detestable semblance
Dislodges the direction of untuning notes
Played by the daring ones, the daring ones.
Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life!
(Oscar Wilde)