The Heart Behind the Golden Mask

Behind that perfect visage
That the saints and scholars praise
My perverse thoughts do wander
Wondering who I'd find behind
Does that lady fear the darkness
Can she feel it press her eyes
Does she weary of base men
Lauding praise and gilded verse
Upon her outward facing mask
When she would have them love
Her troubled golden heart
Does she dream of holding hands
Watching children grow and learn
Sweating rivers under distant suns
Building worlds to give her sons
Creating hope where once was none
Who is the hidden soul in there
How much is her and how much air
Dreams of things could never be
Oh what base crime to imagine
Ladies so beyond our passions
Dancing here with men so rough
Yet the cracked glimpse calls me
Weeks later I can hear its voice
Lying on the matter's chances
My heart ensnaring in her vice
Yet it's not for me she's searching
My mind has told me so now thrice
Still I wake from dreams of lifting
The masking veil to share a life

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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2006