simple messages

[fledgist]

 truth cuts like a dull knife and we are found

out of our proper spaces and not sure

of how to get safe back or what the cure

of this ill time will be the harsh compound

of present agony and glory drowned

with all our magic proved sick and impure

not much of what we are can still endure

but for the present we are all unbound

not what you are but how you may perplex

those who would harm your hopes and lay you low

is all the matter this is the true sign

that must the mean and hostile ever vex

leaving behind a steady even glow

as we pass on along the ancient line