"But what of these truths?" Asked Plato of Socrates.

"But what is truth in purest essence?
For what of the material is purely true?
Yet, by the very nature of the immaterial,
What may we ever quantifiably call truth which we ourselves have no alternative way of examining?
In going so far as to ask for an answer, you must already have proof.
What proof is there that there is truth?"
Spoke Socrates.

"Mentor, you ramble."
Spoke Plato.

"Pupil, I rumble!"
Spoke Socrates.

Love & love not,
Live and not to love;
Death should be better
Were I read the letter
Of forget our stitched knots.

Live & live not,
Love and not to live;
Life could be no worse
Than in longing for that
Which itself draws no breath.

We know that which we know.
That being that we only know
That which is learning, to grow.
That knowing is to learn.
It is to never completely be sure
Of that which you already understand,
Yet to be totally assured.
For in that ignorance,
There is wisdom.

Benevolence - the armor
Amour - is not to be judged
  Sculpting own sanity out
  Collapses under the shin - the teardrop
  Nomadic - of selfless thoughts - giving all in
    Assurance - to forcefully adopt
    From the brink - malnourished consent
    To articulate - though no will
      An open heart has - to fuel a soulless
      Machine - on the spire of -
        Consciously drowning revolt
          With life put in bank -
          Winning a glance, a thought and a breath    
          Embodying the loss with a smile

"Am I slowly going insane?"
In a witness of own downfall
I obey mere flesh - and am servant
Am failure - single words'
Altitude - ain't enough to describe
For how long - was awaiting for god
Drowning fool - and no shore in the sight
Only fog - waters' cold
"I am jealous for dead"
Free of playing cards lust
A casino where not even once
Was a winner - and all of the bets
Grow on dust -
Up the sleeve hidden tricks -
Just a welcoming gesture -
First game in - lost respect for own self
Second bet - and no will to stand up
Third time opens the purse - go in parts of the soul
Fourth bet - lost
Goes in fifth - humane face piece by piece
Given out for momentary bliss
In a wave of eternal despair