Truth

When bindings hold you tight,
Gentle as silk yet firm around the throat,
Know it’s deceit weaving its subtle threads,
One delicate loop at a time.

But truth is a lion in your marrow,
Untamed and restless,
An unbridled roar echoing within,
Shaking the cages you’ve constructed,
Consuming every wall meant to keep it contained.

It doesn’t plead for shields,
Doesn’t crouch or coil in shadows.
It prowls and waits,
Needing just a sliver of an open door
To set the whole world ablaze,
Turning illusions into ash.

Truth is wild, naked light,
Flooding past the scrambling lies,
Which fold into corners, dissolve into dust.
It calls you to stand bare,
Unburdened, stripped to the core —
To the very pulse and essence of you.

If it doesn’t shatter chains and foundations,
If it doesn’t ignite your soul like fire,
Then it isn’t real.