Some things are only meant for few
Slowly slowly
The truth isn’t everybody’s
It is hidden from view
Under the myriad

A mire
Down down
Not a surface
To scratch into
Buried

Deeper deeper
It can’t be touched
Nor felt
Rarely understood
The truth is apparent at ends

Where where
If it can’t be found
By force or scheme
Laying in wait
Like light breaking darkness

In a beam
Holding nothing
Possessing naught
Something unknown
That cannot be taught