I wrote this a few days ago and I suppose it is somewhat poetic.

The Courage of our times is prefaced by unshakeable doubt

The revelation of mouth is born out of incredible confusion

Our walks are pure only when considered: a nature observed

Yet we plot and talk and make merry politics

For ill or for gain?; For growth or for pain?

As we bellow and swine to delay talk of the end

Do we wilt honestly to portray the truth known to ears?