I can glimpse the flaws in your shield.
Where the smallest breeze can slip through,
or where the flame brightest,
and the smooth impermeable armor can be torn away.
I can only imagine how easily you can see through me.
My transparency could be seen by a blind man.
My emotions run riot over every inch of my face,
and the twitches of my hands can give out more messages than a master of ASL.
Open book, would be an understatement. Of the highest degree.
Tell me, if I can see your chinks so easily,
and if I am the clearest mirror available,
is that why we’re all blinded?
So many reflections, warring across our continents.
It’s no wonder we’re all confused.
Why would we trust something that is so bright and obvious?
Shining like beacons on roaming monoliths,
or giant neon arrows.
The more obvious an explanation,
the stronger we resist its truthfulness.