The truth will set you free they say,
Give you strength and show the way.
Help you stand when threats come strong,
Make clear the route to carry on.

Sometimes it's true that truth is kind,
Healing hands and heart and mind.
But all too oft it carries weight,
Truths that grind, and crush, and grate.

A knowledge of a harsher sort,
Breaks through to light, a sharp retort.
The darkened hearts that plot and plan,
To hurt, oppress, and exploit man.

Patterns followed o'er again,
Truth and right now labeled sin.
Done before, the outcome's clear,
But boldly on, the crash comes near.

On every side distinctive signs, 
describe the flaxen cords that bind.
Yet no one stirs to shake them off,
Some warn, entreat, but yet they scoff.

To see the truth through sophistry,
An ancient path of catastrophe,
Makes knowledge a burden heavy and grave,
No freedom here... I am truth's slave.

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