Truth Of Lies Poem by KATOCH P C K PREM

55. Truth of Lies

Each day a lie is born
to give meaning to an irksome life
where stretching of a truth is not easy
falling into fragments it explodes,
inside a conference room
on shinning tables with blank papers
and steaming cups of tea,
warm up lethargic bodies
where whispers of wrinkled lean faces
speak of real hopes already dumped in depths
of lies converting into perennial truths
to be born as lies.

Thus, these keep a brilliant smile
exteriors of joys in plenty
reflecting on life,
like a saint under a great tree
telling each day a truth
that man must die
to create another lie in eternity.

(Rainbow at Sixty 2008)