The chameleon charms with wizardry
to escape his humble lizardry,
blending in with vain show blizzardry,
Chameleon is confused.

The peacock moves with pageantry,
unfolding feathered tapestry,
to hide would be disastery,
Peacock is convinced.

And which will dress our history,
bold plumes or image-shiftery?
Word, sacrament, and mystery,
or blending in, confused?