A rose by another name, may indeed smell just as sweet,
But beneath its beauty may the thorning nature retreat.
And a plane, by its simple name, may indeed fly so gracefully tall,
But its inevitable motion be not horizontal but be a destined fall.

For even the greatest of lights may inevitably and soon be faded,
For be'st even the greatest of Heavens may be overrated.  

Oh, a lioness may ponder amongst the forests and lands for its meal,
Until captured by the passing keeper and within the cage concealed.
For the lioness may display sharefully a facade of tame,
Until the destined moment for a passer-by's death to blame.

To live amongst the living is but to wear the truths of masks,
And be'st the being that falsifies your being but facades casts,
And may gracefully weave into the nature of desires with guise,
Oh ****, only after such foolishness can we now fully comprise.

For a simple line of wisdom may we withdraw from this debris:
Believe none of which you see, and see none of which you believe.