Truth’s Toil
The piercing sounds
of truth
the subtle sting
or voluminous blow
rather each or either
shall unbridle
the burdensome soul
Perplexed by
one’s own perspective
oft hidden well
within walls
of shimmering armour
and the afterglow
of self
Caste beneath shields
and buried still
deeper still
aligned majestically
the curse of perception
fueled and funneled
the course of fear
As dormant the truth
lain waiting
and the world awaits
invariably so it seems
yet all that which
will rise is
true
To be so bold
as to be
truly a friend
or rather still
one’s darkest foe
from either end
undaunted and duly
free
Set forth set free
upon the wisp
and whisper of wings
unfurled by the jaunt
of a journeyman’s
quest
For verity be not
found
by mere want
of unfounded measure
rather measured by
the depths of longing
and toil
Be that tragic
as it may…
to have lived
and laughed
and to know the depths
of fear
and the burning face
failure seared
and to have loved
even still
Grander still
be the silent sounds
of power
freely set free
of dire and wanton
ghost
lurking still
in shadows unknown
Comments
Leave a Comment