The truth is silent, revered and abhorred;
it seeks no guidance, it lusts for no cause.
Things are but easy, notions complex;
there dost your shoes point, there is thy quest!
The truth is silent, it rallies no flags;
no walls get bolstered, no chests emboldend
shall prag. It grabs no loot, nor ceizes no quarter;
this is thus and there shall be no debaucher...
The truth is silent, but lies outspoken;
like Aphitophel they speek of grandeur
while the yokes of old flourish and multiply;
turning wood into iron; bronze into steel.
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