Truth cannot be eroded;
It can’t be brought in iron nests,
With super concrete propaganda,
At a high price paid to scrape out
truth.
As time passes, moisture may junk
On surface, yet its pink petals
make
The verse free, even if, it is
declared
None has any origin, an afterthought
Arising from power mongers.
Like genetic equipment, truth
records
The track of living like a king,
Someone tricked it for puzzled game,
Truth is not fond of the coercion,
Even if fiasco is established.
And a poem is born in silence
Truth cannot be eroded.
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