Digging (a reflection on Foucault)

The night drew me in once again,
Promising me answers
But offering up only fragments. Power, i’ve come to decide, is a silly thing-
But silly things often define us.
Yet we continue to yearn for truth,
And we fail to realize
That no truth can set us free;
Instead, power exerts its load
Through the promise of knowledge,
and that is a hole that can never be filled-
until we stop digging.

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