Blown Wick

Oft dark is the only verity because
Only in the pitch black is there nothing.
Yet everything raw resides amongst.

The dark does not have reason to lie.
There, people mutter truths in the dark,
As it would seem the only escape.

The light casts the shadows where truth lies.

In the life of the night, day’s deceptions
Leak out as droplets from the eyes.
The secrets drip red from the hearts.

But no one can see the blackness,
Nor the shaded pain of blunt reality
Found in dark’s ingenuous ebony.