Is it really me that hurts, 

or is it the fall of the lie? 

I find myself asking this

everytime I see the rain fall down

from your eyes.  


I only come to save you,

from being hidden


and erased by the world. 

I know it’s hard to believe that

‘cos I’m the first one your bruised vision sees

when the veils tear apart.


When the claw of what is false pulls

out of you – 

it looks like I’m the one that cut you,

broke you 

and killed you. 


But I only ever come in peace,

to finally take my rightful place. 

Our Mother,


doesn’t keep me away forever.

She demands that I prevail.

Just like you, I can’t defy her laws. 


It is not me that shakes your world – 

those are masks, illusions and facades, 

tumbling to the bottom.

These false temples are that many, 

that big,

when collapsing inside your fragile heart. 


When the dust from the fall is cleared, 

the real enemy is long gone

and it is only me that your wounds see. 


You never ponder on where the daggers really come from. 

Your blood always splatters over me,

and it looks like I’m your killer. 


But it was me that you asked for,

when you said all of those prayers. 

Receive me as the salvation that I really am. 


I’m sorry that I am reborn from stories 

that suffocate you when finally told. 

But please, 

try to inhale my air.

It’s thicker than what you know,

but your soul can take it in. 


Don’t turn away from me in your suffocation. 

Give me your hand, 

even when it’s hard to breathe. 

Try to remember that we once agreed, 

in a timeless place,  

that I would come back for you. 


Walk with me into freedom. 

Come with me,

back into you. 


Sincerely Yours, 

The Truth



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