The Fool's Little Riddle

The Fool of fools is my name,
Back again to play a little game,
The pleasure was yours not so long ago,
Now the pleasure shall be mine, quid pro quo,
I present to you a test, a rhythmic riddle,
Something for your mind to fiddle,
The reward shall be something you seek,
Something that will surely be unique,
Though a single warning, this game you play,
This little riddle, has a high price to pay,
Answer it wrong, make a single mistake,
and be lost in the Masks oh so fake.
Now dim the lights, let us begin,
Or perhaps the answer already lies within?
It is a single word with a single meaning,
Something you've heard since the very beginning,
It is the answer to all and the question of none,
It is something all alone, the only one,
For all to grasp and for all to see,
This single thing is the single key,
A mark in time, something to always remember,
twenty-three days, seven times after September,
A wretched thing that is forever there,
A wretched thing only one can wear,
It cuts very little, yet pains so deep,
It can only be granted after the fates reap,
It's something so simple and small,
Only a very few will ever recall,
Now a flip of the coin, a flip of the switch,
When it lands, which will be which?
Take a chance, gamble your fate,
The lights are on, the results await,
Do you know the answer? Can you guess the riddle?
Or did you read so much and gain so very little?
He sits as if a King upon his throne,
Now waiting to see if the answer is known.