You’ve always been a midnight saboteur.
From dawn til dusk,
your convictions convince you
but in the honest darkness,
can you be sure?

Your mouth is tangled
by the tales you tell yourself,
cinched tightly--your lips are purse strings.
Since I’ve no confidence with a sword,
will your Gordian knots triumph again?

Too often, you’re enthralled
by the charm of your attic lies,
But tonight,
you’ve finally pulled apart the bad.
Turn on the light and see you’re good.