What’s clad in full, is a naked lie
Half-clad is truth, playing solitaire
What’s left alone, hung out to dry
Cut to the bone, is, truth…when bare

Ever-banished, by the human race
On endless chase, its lasting fear
Stares torn apart, God’s ghastly face
Its fall from grace, truth…when bare

A whore’s lullaby, to unsuckled child
In starving souls, lingers unfed prayer
From shouting tombs, where myths once smiled
Stands unreconciled, truth…when bare

Where slumbers its might, towers impotence
A warrior, or a waif, of a sinful affair
A convict, at last, in gilded innocence
Who spares a care, truth…when bare!

© 2016 Vikas Chandra