This is no confession
Simply in a vow of non silence
I pledge my truth to your bindings
In leather wrapped leaflet drop
Of liquid sentences unheard of: flopped
The truth is wrapped in criptic verse
coersed right from any slumbers lips
Chains that bind truth to backed up lies
Lingering truths unhinged, unwise
Whereas the quiet of peaceful pieces
Puzzeled dangers Ill concieved
When the tolling bell spells out all toil
all tried up in this mortal coil
By will not, but by dreams dreamt solemnly
While fractured cryptixed unsolved churn
Into any answer depending on turn
For which pain dissolve straight into burn
Flames left to forge to gold
until time has grown weary and cold
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