In ancient Palestine a Roman middle manager dresses down a radical
“I have a backlog of so-called prophets
You are of a multitude”
The offender said, “I witness truth”
Perplexed and filled with pique the jailer replied, “truth, what is it?”
Outside of Darlington 1963 on certain mornings a specter appeared
In a well-appointed back garden
Its voice was still heard after the sun had burned away its image
Consulting physicists and mediums, the man he realized
It was a relative living a 1000 miles away
Half sister was thinking of him very poorly on those mornings
In Northern Michigan there was an incident in winter
A horse was hit by lightning and began to speak in a foreign language
When he was finally understood, it repeated, “humans are no good”
So they shot it behind the shed and stuffed him
He’s now on display as a lesson for the kids to always do your best
Do your best always
Always
Always
Truth is a colicking horse
That serves no purpose
Truth is a babbling prisoner
You’d rather not k** if they confess
Truth is the half sister
That will not be forgotten
Truth is the half sister
That will not forgive
She is trying to reach you