Hiding Faces Poem by Norman E Dale

In the depths of velvet mind,
there dwells the one who no
one knows, save for those moments
when he shows, in torment or in
sweet repose.
his secrets of desire.

He dwells in robes of fear,
his face to know,
the face behind the face behind
although, the puppet master pulls
the strings and sings and sings
and minds his secret task.
Yet his fingers never tire.

And so he dwells throughout
the years, when mortal mantel
with it's tears and fears is bourne
and still it's secrets hide, when
morn of truth is gone, yet no one
knows.
He simply doth expire.