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Deceit wears a Janus face;
its self veiled in angelic façade
whose fixed smile
is magnetized mesmerism;
Unhappiness breeds contempt
teasing innocence
into its woven web of misery;
Morality, not favored nor desired,
decayed in the cocooned cell
created in the web’s confining labyrinth;
Compassion, a stranger of instinct,
has failed to be learned—Suffering relieved
only by that of others—What greater healing
than injecting such on those once loved?
Bereft of reasoning, misery seeks misery
and forgiveness remains an elusive discovery;
tears, an unemotional exhaust of afterthought;
leaving a dry mirroring sheen—Cracked.
Cracked and washed away with a morning shower.
How long before the reservoir of grief runs dry;
and the cistern of love overflows? Pray tell…?
