The Truth Makes its Escape

The truth has not lived in words;
It�s held in pictures and feelings and sounds,
That live on the inside,
But never find their way out.

No one outside me looking closely enough to see them,
And no one inside me daring to let them be seen.
But the truth starts finding its way to words,
So hands and mouth can risk letting them go free.

Silenced for so very long.
Guarding her secrets closely,
And dying a little more
Each time lies have been spoken.

Armed guards at the gates,
The truth was held captive.
Losing hope of ever knowing freedom,
Or of feeling the sun on its face.

Such a high price for safety,
And such a brutal battle for escape.
Gnawing and clawing at the iron-clad walls,
Falsely imprisoned for an eternity.

If walls could talk,
What secrets they would share!
Some crimes have no witness,
No evidence laid bare.

But the truth never dies,
It simply waits for release.
For a time when the guards have grown weary,
And lie sleeping at the gates.

Longing for freedom,
The truth makes its escape!
Blue skies! Fresh air! Sunshine on its face!

A life sentence finally over,
The brutal battle finally won,
A life finally begun.