Honesty's the rarest rebel root

A precious pearl in dark long harboring

Whose maker groans and lifts to bring to fruit

From murky waters cull hours laboring. 

The truth of my content has paid the price

In false of good, where I've my cross to bear,

For noise of warm democracy turned ice

And silence takes its place as royal heir. 

For to yourself stay true 'tis difficult 

When one knows not the self to wear

Like mask and theater garment's seeming fault 

As you yourself to your true self forbear. 

Thus blurs and vagues the ancient, sooted eye

Of honesty's most seeply inward lie.