Sing to me the songs of the earth,
Where your poor forefathers sleep.
Speak to me your hapless birth,
On weary lea no farmers reap.
Dance to me the joy of yesteryears,
Smiling with the lovely moon in the bow’r.
Confess to me your fears,
From that crimson-filled lonely tow’r.
Conceal not, my friend,
Your joys and pains, bliss and shame.
I am no stranger in your daily bend,
Nor a nemesis on your Fame.
And in every road you take
Know that a friend in me you keep.
Triumphs and Shame in the journey you make
A friend in me you have till our sleep.
In response to the Daily Prompt: Conceal