On view to some,
Changing skins for fun,
Divert in all directions,
With that innocuous one
All the time to convince,
The weak side of tact,
Miss leading by the lied,
The invention of truth is fact
Faces of a thousand games,
To live as something more,
To seem something less,
In the moody disguise of chess
In a massive crowd,
Tied and bound,
Secrets come out in the dark,
Yet they cannot be found.
©nirajbaral
N