Free yet imprisoned
seeing but blind
senses are active
in a busy mind

Road is so clear
judgement is good
everything ordered
finely chopped wood

Wits are as razor
knowledge is keen
nothing gets past us
or even between

Yet no one can see
the invisible field
that holds hidden danger
where lives we yield

All is as safe
so it appears
but the wooden horse
is soon to appear

Troy was to fall
by deception and flair
and whirling about
deceptions still here

All is not as
it appears to be
hidden things live
if only to see

All things created
speak of a design
a hand in the making
a person divine

All senses and reason
decry this its true
but why are we here
still echoes in you.....