HiveComb

In shadow deep where whispers tread,
A figure stands with a veiled face
Lifted above its head
No eyes to sight, no lips to confess,
The silent one cannot grieve openly
Rather than just tread with care where echoes call,

Their hands have built the towering spin
Yet no one recalls the hands of fire
Unrevealed I am!
I sighted thy afar of
Invisible thought waves through my mind,
Nor is it seen or hidden,
I needed to be wary
Emphatic desire drew near,
With the hope that it is unseen,

The trader calls loudly
While the king takes good in accolade,
Oh, lift the veil let silence break
The faceless earth is wide awake.