Meanwhile, Melody Muses…

Which of me is real,

and which is the hoax?

Lies parading as truth,

nightmares pretending to be certain,

make down look high

and sky resemble grave.

Just such a grave once swallowed the Truth,

spat on Hope,

beat Justice into submission;

my fists flailed Saviour,

my arrogance gripped hammer.

As Dark grew blacker still,

Light split its circumference,

and the worst Friday in history

became

Good.