The Last True Things

What survives after the lie ends

Words alone won’t carry it. Sound completes the fall. Hit Play.

There is no center to the maze.
No god behind the glass that prays.
No final word, no judge, no plan..
Just shifting dust that calls itself man.

The stars do not know they are watched.
Time does not care what it has botched.
The sky is deaf. The void is numb.
We speak in screams. It answers none.

You were not born with purpose clear..
You learned to fake it, out of fear.
The world sold meaning pre-assigned,
But left you hollow, misaligned.

They said the path was paved in light.
But light, too, lies.. it's just the night
Wearing a mask to keep you still,
To drug the wound, to dull the will.

Yet in that wound... you find the thread.
Not comfort, no.. but truth instead.
The pain that speaks is pain that knows
The fire dies, but still it glows.

Not all who break are meant to heal.
Some fractures teach us how to feel.
To see the world without its veil..
Not heaven, no.. but something pale.

A beauty born from what decays,
Like song that only silence plays.
The sacred found in breath withdrawn,
In what you lose when hope is gone.

Truth isn’t kind.. it does not bend.
It doesn't care. It doesn't mend.
But in its shadow something sings:
A voice that says: we are the last true things.

We are the burn that time forgot.
The flicker in the godless plot.
Not gold, not fame, not flesh, not kings..
Just breath. Just ache. The last true things.

"The universe does not owe us meaning... and yet, we ache for it anyway."

One coffee = one happy keyboard.

A ripple becomes a wave. Share the shift.

🎶 : Ascension' by Scott Buckley
Released under CC-BY 4.0.
| www.scottbuckley.com.au |