Literature
Never Known
At night, where the candle burns slow,
and the light dances with the shadows
in an ever glow. On paper
with ink wet, yet unfinished words
only remain. To think the show
must end, but it was never true
this would lend. Just a performance
for one and none set on a stage
that soon became a cage. A smile
as though a wisp that hides the mask
so fixed to a face, a charade
all the same. Weak are these days now
dragged along on the river known
by that name of ever to change.
In truth and in shame, all you knew
was a ghost that posed, yet nothing
passed of who never gave. At most
a shade flittered on candlelight
to reveal a form of human
and a grave. To conceal a life
that always felt this would never,
no, it would never ever stand
a whole lifetime and again. Tears
danced and ebbed away, as land
of that farce did the same. At night
when under the moonlight, wonder
calls with a rhyme as to challenge
a mind. Who walks this world, who speaks
with lies, who lives an actor's
