Every step you take away
Your pain grows less and less,
So come back, weary traveller,
Into this barbed caress;
Don't veer from your path of wisdom
Through the panic of distress,
And don't you look so harried:
The truth is not duress.
Despite this all he walks away,
Walks a path of his own paving,
Turns his back on what he wants
For what he thinks worth saving,
Whispering the parable
Of truth and falsehood bathing,
When truth went naked in the world
Not wanting falsehood's clothing.