To tell the truth…
…I don’t like the mask much, either.
It’s not a good fit. It’s uncomfortable. My face can’t feel the sun. Power of sun have I over thee. Power of moon have I over thee. But I don’t know if I have the right to call on those powers anymore, call on the power which is your own. I don’t know where my power rests anymore. Speaking in a strictly figurative sense.
I suppose the corallary is “You have no power over me.” But right now, I don’t have any power over me either. I’m being tossed about by waves of dread (power of water have I not), blown about by the winds of fate (power of air have I not), burned alive by fire of passion (power of fire have I not) and buried alive in the earth (power of earth have I not).
Power of words have I over thee. Power of tears have I over thee.
