From War of Words
No dear, truth’s no slave to discovery,
Nor needs an innovative creator,
Nor in you a path-breaking inventor,
It being no fiction nor a story,
Forget it then, truth can’t be created
On a blank page of your mind's spare diary,
Conjured up nor cooked nor conceived in head,
O to write later its obituary.
It shall show up one day, light up a torch,
And all your dark lies shall show up in light,
One spark of truth’s enough all lies to scorch,
Your untruth’s when buried under own blight,
Till that day, here’s my signal green from red,
Why spoil today’s joy for tomorrow’s dread?
________________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek, Sonnet | 05.04.2005 |
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
