With Stealth... Poem by Elizabeth Hefty

With stealth they creep into your affections,
finding the chinks in your battered armour.
Growing
like a virus in the blood,
eating you from within,
driving your mind to madness.
Are their truths lies?
Are their lies truth?
Confusion a fog, as words swirl like mists,
and you find yourself questioning each one,
turning it over and over,
an artefact cold in your hands.
Never answers,
only questions
lie mouldering in the dust.