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