Why do the charmed play hide and seek

and flee the story in the wings,

as if disporting on the stage

could set alight the curtain fringe?

Illusion's limelight's highly prized

and channelled sentiment extolled

If structured context cramps the style,

another's script makes players bold

The play's the thing, so says the Bard,

our psyche's lineaments laid bare

We revel in the story told

and all vicarious life is there

The Safety Curtain functions well

as acts meet their appointed ends

Perplexing shadows haunt the wings

Beyond, the brave face skylit lands

So who'll forsake bewitching masks

and don his natural God-given role

and tread the existential boards

and free the glittering eyelets' soul?