Truth is a thing everyone cannot know
I reckon anyone will never show
Truth is what we ought to believe
Or it is what we opt to deceive
Truth is sometimes what we deserve
Most of the time is what we preserve
It is the guilty desire of our souls
And our minds beset the holes.
What say us to the knowledge of truth?
It is something that we cannot refute
Like a flame burning paper
Turning to ash sooner or later.
What comes first? Truth or belief?
When there is the truth there comes belief
Though when there is belief there comes the truth
It all resort to faith and folly.