Paint me

Paint me a portrait, and let me see how well you know the inest dream of me. An image says supposedly more than a thousand words, how come then when I see a portrait I only see an empty gaze? Perhaps there is a screen to hide behind, which very few to none, have been able to come past. Or perhaps there is no screen and the empty gaze is in truth the longing for uncharted territory. However, there is a hidden place that can be found but rarely is. It surprises me as I tend to stumble upon it accidentally, the place is hidden and forgotten even to the persona, of which it belongs. A camber like the room of requirements, it only appears when required thought is given wing. Both comforting and a liability. Duality lies within us all, but hypocrisy may be us houses past if we are the sweet such as a select few are.