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Truth
Truth as a bride left beside the altar.
Before things even start, she speaks alone,
“Face your bullies upfront or you are done.
Your words waste breath; they have already won.”
Truth invited friends her future to share,
But Cassandra's seer words coldly spurned,
Friends felt her imagination too dark,
Shaking heads with, "There is no war to spark,"
While unworldly witless woke knew no hint
Of cascades of words spoken and in print
As aid was begged in ancient Kiev,
A place seeming too distant to believe,
As leaders, beating chests for Truth, do speak,
Condemning evil war against the weak,
Providing sparse aid to signal virtue;
Funding evil strong, while smirking at Truth.
Truth is the first casualty of war.
Evil devours diplomats' fresh green deals
Which they turn trash, strewn upon the terrain -
Banana peels for each weak Chamberlain.
Truth is wisdom’s foresight before the fight
Ignored by whose delight is their own light.
Copyright ©
David Drowley
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