When the reigning sun rises and dispels the intruding darkness,
And it presence sucking up the fluffy mist,
Paving way for the passing air,
And the clear headedness of the roving eyes,
Yet the image still lies unclear,
And the shadows laid siege to it vision!
Its fire to the anxious soul,
When the unknown remains not known,
Yet its stares one in the face,
Like an apparition of out of sleep nightmares,
And the heart racing to no end!
So thin yet so thick,
Is the line between light and darkness,
And the hidden from exposition,
For the tangible mask is no more wide,
Than the golf of the hidden face,
From being known to the living world!
So close yet so far,
So dear yet not clear,
For the face is the height of identity,
Like the kingly sun away from the clouds,
And the glorious moon without her nightly veil!
The mask always leaves one to ask,
For the anxious is dearly taken to task,
For although it may bear no cast,
Yet it singly refers to no past,
But in the memory it will forever be paste,
The darkness of the hidden face!