Philosophy is poetry if true

For truth is found in perfect, measured rhyme:

The dance between the mystery and clue,

The hint of infinite contained in time.

Philosophy is true if it is said

In words of simple honesty which ring

With cosmic shimmers, and the truth is dead

If language must obscure idea from thing.

Plato’s only truth was poetry;

Wittgenstein was eaten up by words.

From birth, we drift amidst the language sea

And clutch at thoughts as rafts in the absurd.

The simplest truth confounds Sophistic scam:

To stand in rhyme before the great I Am.

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