The Pantomime.

To conceal is to hide,
A set of rules to abide.
Where the night shall be the day,
Forbidden to join in the fray.

So her silence she must hold,
Not to move till she is told.
Huddle close, my little one.
Let's wait here for the morning sun.

Truth be told, she knows it all.
From the pedestal to fall,
Plunge she must and plunge she will,
In line with this familiar drill.

Sketches of the shifting sands
Hasten forth to make amends.
So upon this curvature,
It is fraught with inertia.

Shall the shroud thus be pristine?
The truth to gloss over and glean.
A set of rules to abide,
To conceal is to hide.

~ Mich