The veils of history endure,
and the molding of truths prevail
as is the mark of man, too quick
to abandon honesty in the name of gain,
too complicit to avow fault
in a world of blame.
And so belief is a misguided reality,
based so much on the fatality of truth,
woven so harmoniously
within the fibers of possibility,
it is accepted without qualm or ruse,
unseen for its purported clarity.
In time the delusions take hold,
belief the strength of wills so inborn
there are no lies that can avert their devotion,
and so truth slips from view,
replaced by contrived lies and misconstrued facts,
that echo strong in the minds of those attuned.
Truth then becomes a dogma,
a belief so ingrained that nothing else
can enter this game of knowledge,
an elusive landing of truths rejected,
and vehemently subjected to ridicule.
That is how the world stands,
separation through dogmas of belief,
woven so seamlessly in history and propagated
by those who gain from the illusions,
the distractions in their keep, to do and act as they will,
with our gormless agreement.
There is none so purposeless as the seeing blind,
ignorance a trait of dependence,
a belief so entrenched in the mind,
that reality’s bite is met with vacancy,
as if amoral, no understanding of the concept,
and bereft of any possibility of change.
They say there is always hope,
but hope is waning, an apocalypse straining to become,
and blindness seems an arcane wonder,
when no-one grasps the lies we’ve all be told,
the beliefs we so passionately hold
in the falsehood of truth.
We no longer question the act,
and never the precept, the foundation of lies,
and so what hope has earth,
when this disease holds us within boxes,
marked and labelled, inert,
as crisis e mount, and the lies spout the same, ongoing.
Tony DeLorger © 2018