It seems strange that aononymity
Would lend itself to such acclaim
To enable those with grand titles
Illustrious, Noble, Sovereign Prince
Where's gone the window's son
To the east, shading 'neath acacia
Those morals righteously lived
Seen shared by self to community
Thy brothers and sisters about
They are outside, and beyond
Secrecy is the union of mystery
Unbalancing compass and square
Living on the even plane eternal
The daily task lies e'er at hand
The novice, fellowcraft, master
Each day instructs all of them
An apron given to crafted service
That everyday must be honed
Understood by the journeyman
E'er wandering this moulded land
Let not ambitions of self cloud
That steps made overtake one
Stumbling from mankind's need
Tumbling into darkened pits
Symbols of materialism given
Should not lend themselves
To the accumulation of status
For in the end we are all equal
Humbled then are deemed great
Lives given through act and deed
The haunty find ridicule whispered
Lost in the desert, the black camel