Philosophy‎ > ‎

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