And then, truth is there.
And we evoke infinite propositions,
Until a proposition meets the corresponding situation,
Thus, an actual truth is uncovered.

As if you are detained in a dusky place.
Your eyes scan glimpses of weak light.
Your ears catch nothing but burbles.
Your hands, numb, hardly palpate a thing.

Pending the time when the veil is ripped off.
And quintessence is set free.
All you know is your conjonctures and speculations.