Transforming Poetry

Truth

Bright cold truth.
The light of burning flames.
Swerving left and right,
Screaming out in vain.

Like a firing squad primed,
Aiming to discover,
Calling for honesty,
Shoot to hurt another.

Possessive over falsehood,
The cover keeping hidden,
Like tarpaulin in a rain storm,
But rips appear sudden

And grow larger still,
Till the waters' pouring in,
Drowning out the pretence,
The play can now begin.

It knows it will be found,
Like a clock knows it must tick,
Floating amongst the lies,
Invisible but sticky and thick,

When someone finds a piece,
Nothing more can stop it,
Though they may try to pull away,
It hangs on to them, desperate.

Like glue on sheets of paper,
Or syrup on your skin,
The truth once touched a little,
Will eat away till it sinks in.

But often it can hurt,
Can bring anger and despair,
When secrets are uprooted,
Lies pull away and tear.

The darkened yellow of deceit,
The black and red of the enemy,
All formed together in darkened green,
Showing dark, evil treachery.

Trust breaks up, beyond repair,
Like rusted hinges, brightly coloured,
Crumbling to dust so easily,
Now weakened and smothered.

The air wails, rumbling,
Thunder tears the sky.
Holes of emptiness swallow the earth,
On which were formed these lies,

The damage done, promise broken,
Bonds untied, burned as well,
The truth will set you free they say,
But freedom feels like Hell.