Truth

A most precious lie,
Tall-tale, heightened,
Shrouded in Hope.
Test on and of,
A squeeky - corroded hinge.

Do we open Pandora's Cube?

To come full circle,
In a six-sided cell-
A floor-cast echo,
Reverberated on 'rock,
And a hard-speckled cloud.

The Truth is not matter,
Of more than a fleeting thought.