Foggy Landscape

Integrity is the light shining
behind closed doors, abating
the shadowy findings
of a consciousness struggling
to hold itself against
expectations. Let not the tongue
betray the wisdom it dispensed;
let not the hands remain clung
to the mischievous blade.
Contracts lay before you
in an intricate charade
designed only to subdue.
Moving slowly through the fog,
the mud adheres us to the illusion;
we are no better than the dog
whose master identifies its sin.
One truth underlies it all
and it seems little memory of it remains.
Its usually found behind the wall
of our mutual and unwitting restraint.