Why all our my-ths add to a lie
In the equations of existence
Deny, defy, then deify
Is substance of our social sense!

For some a hearsay at next door
O’er coffee cups, spent cigarette butts
Burden of borrowed metaphor
Seemed more than mile long censor-cuts!

For some manifestos on worn walls
Gift-wrapped in political propaganda
How much know they it is all false
Yet swear by it like Lord’s Agenda!

Yet many chew it like crude cud
While lingering in estranged shadows
Who farm the crop of faith from mud
Truth Is Cellulose For Those!

© 2023 Vikas Chandra