The Truth
The Truth will find you thatDiscarded paper clip under the dirty mattressWith just one bulb swinging casting theMoving shadows as the drunken jailerSnores like a Zaporizhzhian Cossack Softly under the threadbare blanketYou rotate the keyhole of the handcuffsTo mute the click of the restraints unlocking The Faith in the plan studiously unravels theBlanket threads so the paperclip becomesA hook to steal the ring of keys on theJailers waistband.Casting for fish but securingTarnished metal , it is indeed aTriumph of sweating faith. The Revelation of freedomFinally arrives with the turn of the keyringFresh air awaits the escapeeTo bathe in the sunlight and beginA long journey home