If we forgo pursuing truth
Then we allow ourselves to die
I’ve done so long ago
When complacent with her lie
With the word of a woman
Who carries death in her sight
Unfit to reject her own skill
For she brings with it slight delight
Both soldier and weapon
Difference had died with her
The daughter of hopes rejoice
Now walks as a hopeful killer
Burdened are the knowing
For fitting words had rung
And she knew of what escaped
Beneath her velvet tongue