Truth

A poem about the battleground of truth

Caustic ruminations tear at my heart and soul
devising my destruction from the inside out
Thoughtless conflagrations sear me to the bone
Masquerading demons toss my life about.

Threats from every side put my mind in a vice
narrowing my field of vision but honing my sight
But what I see’s not pretty; it’s dark and dank ahead
If only I could upward look, I know I’d see a light.

At a spoken Word, the demons start to flee
Soothing balm seeps over me as my eyes I close
Taking in the inner sight where a healing hand
is binding up my wounds and driving out old ghosts.

Truth has taken hold exposing every plot;
machinations against me, no longer in the dark
Old foes of rectitude have fallen in the dust
replaced by sweet assurance and a brand new spark.