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,

secluded gate,

the oaken doors roar open.

 

It is here,

that legends wait.