From behind the screen
Behind the façade
They smile at you

Their eyes tell stories
Once upon a time
Or those yet to come

Prophetic in their work
They see the tragedies
They see the ugly hand of fate

Turning the page, they smile
Blank as always, they write
Of foreign days and starlit nights

Of damning fire or of eternal fright
Bright blessed day, dark sacred night
What a sight

What goes through their head
Why do they see
This curse of sight, a blight

It troubles them to know
But it doesn't bother them
They write nonetheless

Looking down at that page
They smirk and chuckle
Blank, just how they like it

Another vision to come
Another secret revealed
Another tragedy unfolds