The Truth So Terrible

The Truth So Terrible

by Charles E S Fairey

The Medieval Minds told you so

But you weren't ready to know

The Truth So Terrible

Ignore It at your peril

For the world of angels and demons

You never listened to the mad and heathens

For history warned us: the so called enlightened

So that like children: we weren't frightened

The Truth So Terrible

For a madman to see those elemental spirits, upon you

You'd scream in terror if you only ever, truly, knew

A man absorbed by illness and pain

Blaming all with continuing profanity and blame

But oh, just take a step back and you'll see

That far from the depths of imaginary be

For like a demon it clenches him, oh so strong, oh so close

In his head, in his voice, in his hands, and in his toes

Feeding on the energy of misery’s ball

Haunting you with every malevolent call

Yet you look, and see just a suffering man

Whereas with the Medieval Mind, see, you can

See, See, The Truth So Terrible

Like an imp it grows within him

Like claws it scratches at his kin

Slowly but surely, it effects those with care

Whilst you in misery, think life isn't at all fair

As it takes root within, what was once his form

And when he's gone from this world, at the deathly dawn

It will linger long, in the minds it affected

I mean what was It, that folk really expected

If they could see, I mean really See

The Truth So Terrible

And like a virus, the hordes of darkness spread their wings

Right under the noses, of those scientific minds it sings

Oh, The Truth So Terrible

And its victim, remains oblivious throughout

Whilst it wrestles, with his soul in an unholy bout

And only then, those who can clearly and truly see

Won’t utter a word to them, for they too dance with he

Oh, The Truth So Terrible

Yet if we listened, to those who had gone before

Those with grace, who entered heaven's forgiving door

Or were given over after, by another

With the words of ritual, from a brother

We would have, with the aid of the Medieval Mind

Burned with the Light, only of the angels kind

And learned to suffer and die, with angelic grace

For we would know the terror, we all must face

For we would be able to: disentangle the demon from the modern man

And see the truth hidden within belief: so invisible in this modern land

For the darkness visible

Is The Truth So Terrible

"Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my Soul to keep,

If I should die before I 'wake,

I pray the Lord my Soul to take."

The New England Primer

"At our peril, we ignore the beliefs of souls who have gone before us..."

Sir Simon Marsden, ‘Ghosthunter’ documentary, Granada TV, May 1992