The Lying Truth

This is not of heartbreak, but of exhaustion.

What is a part of myself is a piece of every other.

Resonating in a pool of despair and wretchedness as thick as tar.

This is not of sadness but of anger.

What has been a millennia of unkept fulfillment.

Disappointment harks over the shoulder of every broken soul.

If each lie carries a drop of truth, then one drop can replace the tongue of a serpent.

This is not of heartbreak but of wisdom.

Heed my warning.

If children can draw their first breath from a surplus of lust

And Lovers can lie with open arms of betrayal,

The truth seen through lies of comfort is that there is nothing ahead.