In frames of fashion, I find my place, a window to the world, a vision's embrace. I highlight wonders, grand and small, a sight to behold, I reveal it all.

I am what all men fear. Rearrenge me and I am what all men do. Rearrange me again and I become The thin fabric hiding the truth. One final shuffle and I am The most wretched word of all. Yet made of the exact same parts. Four letters, four faces. One answer imparts.

Where feet tread and dance, a sturdy stage, Holding the weight of all who engage. On me, worlds are built and dreams soar, Yet I'm just beneath your daily chore.

I can be kept, I can be broken, I am mightier than any sword, and yet, add one letter to me, and a sword is exactly what you’ll find. Now, then, what am I?

Treading ground. Spoken round. Chain bound. Coasting sound.