Masks slip, faces seen
reveals a little of what's been.
Keys fit, gates swing
melodies of old sing.
Chase fate, catch dreams
illusions never are what seems.
deception cracks, pathways clear
turn the corner, dwindling fear.
Lion's heart, sword make known
the seeds of knowledge have been sown.
Alice Anne Gordon
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-verse-3/
