an unveiling

In verses plain, I seek to find,
The essence clear, unshackled mind.
For words can twist and often blind,
But truth remains, by verse defined.


Amid the forest of ornate lines,
Truth is a tree, its roots entwine.
In simple verse, its presence shines,
Clear and bright, not left behind.


With each word chosen, crafted tight,
The poet’s quest, to bring to light.
Not lost in a maze of endless night,
But clear in verse, the truth takes flight.


In tangled woods of prose, we stray,
Yet in verse, the truth holds sway.
A path of words, both clear and gray,
Guides us through, and is our stay.