Confusions of noise
blot any answers from surfacing,
in their stead – a maze of ideas
and questions, idly pass time –
glancing at even the dimmest stars of truth.
Eventually only these flagrant lies stand firm
and there is no cessation in noise!
Some comfort is found
in the familiarity of these timeless ‘whoppers’.
This barely comforts rhetoric;
but comfort it is –
and all sinew
grapples it securely to heart
– still waiting the truth.
Till time has passed
this day and this night…
Only more exaggerated during the night
and more conscious at day.