What path is this?
Does it head toward truth?
Or remain shaded in fiction?
Spirits, desire the straight and narrow
of a wooded lane
of earth, atmosphere, simple truth
Truth that floats with conviction
over darkness below
giving virtuous cover to fiction
Cross the bridge in honesty
In knowledge, wisdom
Throwing fantasy over rail’s side
Fiction through lies forges mud
Sucking reality into inky muck
Tempting us to sink to its depth
Truth is golden
It has no agenda, no evil
It explains itself honestly
Truth lines our path in lace
In a God’s grace and commandments
leading us to life
Stop. Stop. Which way do we turn?
Left or right?
In truth or in fiction?
Are we turning in genuineness?
Or lingering in a gray world of deceit?
An answer awaits