What lies under the shadows of night,
Lurking behind the boulders of might?
Is it a desire of light?
Or simply a hope to find it right?
What hides in the rear of the praise nice?
What truth exposed in the people's lies?
Is it merely a random round of dice
A fact small in size?
What glitters in the orbs when children get their toys?
Is it as in the murderers' eyes?
Are villins truely villins?
Are they the true demons descending among the kins?
But what are "demons" and who are they?
Just like weets among hay
Or like Men and Elves
Often undiscernable, undistinguishable?
Or like knives
That you must taste before you know they are viable?
What then, would you do with the truth?