The false facade
Burns to the ground,
Covering the hardened lies
In thick layers of
Falling ash,
Obscuring them from
Our notice
If only for a moment,
Before their shape is
Recognized.
Before we recognize
Our victory.
The sweet, sorrowless victory
That blooms in our
Hearts
As their flimsy facade
Falls to the dirt.

One that has been built up
Since the beginning
Of time
With only
The intent
Of hiding behind it.
Hiding our souls and truths
Inside of it,
Letting only the lies
Show through.

It has been a great burden
Since the beginning
Of time,
Harming those who wanted
It gone from our minds.
Harming those who used it
To show a side of
Them no one
Wanted, but one they'd
Convinced themselves was true.

One that was destroyed
As the folly facade fell
From their soiled minds
As we
Trampled it underneath
Our leaden feet,
Setting fire to the rain
And waiting for
Our world to gain an
Ounce of Purity
Once again.