Chasing Secrets

In shadowed halls, I’ve followed the quiet threads of power,  
Charting each muffled cry, its subtle sway in time, 
Silently navigating the veiled histories held in their gaze.  

Indeed, the world is more than a stage for veiled hands,  
And the moon a silent sentinel of their secret rites, 
In hidden rooms, the sacred vow shifts to silent betrayal.  

I turn not to the relics of old secrets worn thin,  
Nor seek the stark truths in ruins of ancient bonds.  
Shadows are draped like promises, speaking of deeper dawns.  

I’ve roamed the archives under the quiet moon’s watch,  
Untangling the snarled webs of alliances that bind.  
Yet, they hold fast.  

Sometimes, I long for the veils to be drawn back completely.  
In the quiet corridors, triumphs speak their tales;  
The secret heart pulses with the rhythms of old truths.