truth's a toy

[fledgist]

what’s left unknown weighs down  until we bleat

in rage and fear then leave off being bold

for better nights and stories wiser told

as those with longer practice wait the fleet

leaving the late ones to patrol the street

in angry silence so while it is cold

as the dew rises and the night turns old

the urgent and the foolish still may meet

this is the game of rats that always prey

upon the leavings that once made for joy

cast away now beneath the starless sky

as every denizen flees from the day

in certainty that even truth’s a toy

and honour turns out just another lie