The Mask

So easy to deceive today
No qualms about telling lies
But few are masters over
That something about the eyes

The subtle whisper of an eyelash
The pupil and iris that speak
That expose the flaws of the strong
And reveal the secrets of the weak

Like the undertones of an accent
So fine like lines in the skin
Just a glimpse, a nuance, a second
That can lay bare all that lies within

So mask and let the curtains fall
Gather yourself close inside
But eyes are windows to the soul
That see no matter how you hide