truth seems like a child of blind faith
the dead inside – she scowls and rapes reality
the old eyes - cold
but the truth is just a slave of what we deny
this truth - the roots in deep mire
since eons sold
a wound in mind's desire
our own despair
she's lying in wait in our hands
but who decides when lying ends
mother betrayal
face of denial
impenetrable
nothing more than a frozen wish
the ice of clarity breaks
obscuring veins decline our fragile view
of what we pretend
the truth – this great illusion
say - who defines it
to recognize what's real or wrong
an uneven way - endlessly long
the truth – a frozen wish

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