Searching For The Truth


The truth lies hidden behind that door,
Like a jewel of the rarest kind;
It has been hidden there without being found,
For a very, very long time.

Here I stand, once again,
Before that awesome door,
I've tried to open so many times;
And now I'm trying once more.

The door is made of the strongest oak,
And steel of the finest grade;
And the lock that's put on it -
Oh! there's no better lock yet made.

My axe has made a thousand marks,
But my effort is all in vain;
Wearily I turn my head to go -
Looks like I've lost again.

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