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Truth
Like wisdom, it is loved
Greatly admired by his author
Lived with ancients
As old as time itself
Yet the test of time stands
Albeit a bitter pill
But honey indeed
Neglected in secret
Rejected by deceit
Abhorred by violence
Scorned by evil
Surfaces triumphant
Still not tampered with
Hates to hear dethroned
Wears victorious armor
The potent sword of defense
The joy of the helpless
Though ephemerally buried and covered
Rises up uncovered
Who can tamper with Truth?
Surely, it can never die.
I liked this poem a lot, especially the last two lines.
Thank you much for commenting on my poem.
--Aden Recreated
hey me again, it was nice. all the big self rightoeus words were okay and the title was abit 13-yr-old's-first-effort. I mean titles like that used to be great until little ditzy dipshits mass-produced it but other then that a great example of fine poetry.