Whispers here, whispers there.
Twisted tales, that everyone, seemed to care.
May they be fiction, doesn't matter at all.
No matter how big, no matter how small.
Provide the falsified evidence, to your case.
Tie them all up, in the lullabies, of complicated lace.
Blocked to know, a blindfold, covers their eyes.
So only the talkers, win the prize.
Communication, to the keys of talk
First you speak, but then you walk.
Open the door, as the light shines in.
Uncloak, the told rubbish, from the bin.
Give to them, the opportunity, to open the gate.
Start them on, the quest, of the spiritual fate.
Unfold the book, to unlock, knowledge's rights.
May, the realisation, kick in the days or nights.
J