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Poem

In halls of thought, where words take flight,
Two minds converge to seek the light.
With logic keen, they shape their case,
Yet truth slips past in reason’s race.

An ancient art from ages old,
Where questions flared and thoughts were bold.
Each voice would yield, if proved untrue,
In search of wisdom, clear and new.

But now the stage is dressed with flair,
Where rhetoric perfumes the air.
To win, to shine the heart’s desire
Outweighs the pulse of truth’s soft fire.

The speaker stands with polished grace,
Defending views, no fault to face.
Concede a point? The crowd might jeer
For strength, not doubt, earns favor here.

And listeners, swayed by voice and tone,
Let bias rule the mind alone.
A tale well-told, a voice that sings,
Can lift false wings o’er truer things.

Yet still, this dance has worth to find:
It stirs the soul, awakens mind.
Not truth’s last word, but seeds we sow
For curious hearts to learn and grow.

So let the clash of thought unfold
In stories shared, in ideas bold.
Not to decree what’s right or wrong,
But spark the path where minds grow strong.

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