Secrets come and secrets go.
Secrets pass fore all who know,
till all is lost and thus forgotten.
All is gone, gone, far away.
Yet past the veil, the unremembered,
the outer realm of truth unknown,
there where fact is undetermined
yawns the pit where lies are thrown.
Above them, winds of speculation,
stir and beckon to the soul,
yet onward runs the endless journey
toward some shining, distant goal.
Still there always is that boundary
beyond the limits of clear sight,
that sacred, hidden country
where shadows bend the light.
Beyond this screen of mystery,
an ever-changing history
turns the wheels of fate.
Beyond these doors
these ancient pathways
beyond the lone,
the oaken doors roar open.
It is here,
that legends wait.