There is no truth

There is no truth

Not here

In the darkness

Of a veil

What is the intention

Of a nightmare

When its purpose

Is so indistinct

In determination

As to be dispersed

In as many directions

As the wild wind

There is no motivation

In regret

Not here

In the shadow

Of another purpose

Too much lies hidden

For clarity of intention

Take heed

Of conviction

Follow its direction

Until it finds

Meaningful regard

As more than a wherefore

In the margin

Of a woebegone

Even a heavy conscience

Is proof of sentience

Whatever comes of this

Is as difficult

To appreciate

As any dream

Weave me an answer

Drape it lightly

Over my shoulders

Cover my eyes

They are useless

Without perception