Poetry

The Truth

Stars dance across the milky sky.

Captivating to those who look—

upon the mystic, wish to fly.

To find answers lost in the nook.

Not reaching, not knowing, your worst.

The demise of one with whom truth

remains lost, but wishing to burst.

Everything we wish is in sooth.

Truth will rise with the passing sun.

Unease will come with the endless

darkness consumes the truth not done

but we rise to fight, bright, breathless.

Our skin yearns for the truthfulness,

but leaks falsities of an end-

less sea, fighting for the boundless—

truth, while playing forceful pretend.