Peasants and common people
Are all wrapped in fantasy
About who is truly righteous,
Who must always be wrong
What if what we know is fraud
Following such fallacies
Ultimately we will be forsaken
Thinking we know everything
Knowing what we firmly believe
Thereafter guided we delve our truths
By what we see or believe to be popular
Or by what we think are vulgar misdeeds
These are all a masquerade
We have no idea what is real
Nor what is proof
For that is deeply formed
Somewhere in your mind
And heart, and spirit
Where you know what is wrong
And what is good
