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Why Truth ?

Turth = Facts
John Adams

Wonder by myself each lonely night

behind the mist of wishes, passions and anticipations

at the end of countless phantoms, obsessions and revelations

once I numb tortuous ideas and appealing illusions

and when the unorthodox matches are alight

unchaining questions, trying to find

of those that can't be denied

Neither by my hearth nor by my mind.

Though my breaths sometimes fight,

I scenth, truth is there but my imagination is half blind

and my soul, in the somewhere between of this blight,

still bearing this mediocre life, still terrifed.

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