The truth is spoken in shapes,
We choose to classify.
Spoken in a language,
Only we could signify.
In a language we created,
A language in our minds,
That has been formed,
Throughout each moment in our lives.
The truth is present, the truth is there,
Calling upon the shadows
Of the still night sky,
And we choose the way
To see it by.
To see it as the moon,
To see it as a star,
All depends on your vision,
The way you see it from afar.
The truth is what remains,
After all the battles,
And the soldiers’ realms,
Though only you could be the one
To choose its place,
Whether to shine upon the stars
Or to be planted with delicate grace.
The truth is reality,
Prosperity said sincerely.
No illusions held,
In its lands,
For the truth is always bare,
Too worthy for corrupted hands.
The truth is there, shall always be,
And we decide,
We foresee,
The ocean’s wave and every tide,
Whether to let it drown or set it free.
-
Author:
~c.y (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 13th, 2026 08:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
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Comments6
"What is truth?" (Pontius Pilate)
That's a great reference
great write
Thank you
Well written. Your poem revolves around the concept of truth and perception. It emphasizes that truth is subjective, shaped by individual experiences and perspectives.
I appreciate it
Truth!
A poem that holds truth to be universal and unchanging well written
We want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well done.
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