The Sisters' Coronet

by Fable Scroll

Sonnet 8

The lady's faults the moon shows indiscreet
Much like a mask of white that bears a crack
Which hides a greater flaw behind its back
Although its face still keeps their fame complete.

These hidden, ancient faults will never meet
Their judge, nor fear the dutiful attack
By faithful souls the acts put on the rack
To render acts of grace a risky feat.

The smoothest face is easily wiped clean,
For through it only chosen acts are seen.
In storms the polished mask remains unmoved
And shows what rare and common eyes approved.
The porcelain divides the low and high.
Their gazes roam, yet never find their eye.