Lies

The world did change in  just two days,
Maybe the full face of lies had to met -
Head-on.
Bearish, maybe mulish,
The golden moments-
Now seem like shards to walk on.
Yet another end.
Yet another last laugh given away.
Trusting lies and walking on fire-
The heart is stripped bare and soul numbed.
Maybe the speech dumbed down too-
Died and frozen in time.
Weary bones carry the tiresome weight-
Irksome seems existence as it shrouds-
Meaningless.
No world without the spark of joy-
No life without the beat of a heart much unknown.
Fickle minds and cold fingers-
Reach out to scrunch me within-
Watch me die as the blue veins burst forth with crimson.
Weak and beyond comprehension,
The stooped body sinks to the ground.
No fight left
As the one much loved-
Berates and becomes quite belated.
Elated the clown looks on-
Perhaps the only shot at happiness
Did the old lined face get in her wasted years.
Sadistic bubbles burst forth-
Wrecking, heaving with spite-
They spill across to form a lake-
As the spirit drowns in its liquid ether.
Pain seems a faraway concept now-
Just that trust seems dissipated from all human form.
Careless, you mark your gait
With marked insouciance.
Without a backward look,
You leave my world shredded in your lies.
Can't believe the folly-
Yet not much unknown its familiar twinge.
Should I look back with love
And respect- that I'd always promised you?
Or should I treat all your broken promises
As your truth-
While the scars burn deep-
At your holy grail left behind.
May the fire kill my conscience-
May it be rendered blank and lost in abyss-
All the broken chords
Which we had sung once
As our song.
The innocent eyes could not
Scorn you-
For it's her habit to love and lose.
Just another day-
In the deadened soul's life.
So many questions had raged through-
None voiced to still respect the space,
Your silhouette stood at.
While the clown laughed on in conceit.
The moist eyes had looked on-
In wonder at the idiocy that the clown was-
In flesh and blood, it seemed a life-sucker.
Hands tightly balled in pockets,
Had itched to hit out at the protrusion
Of deceit.
It's love's labor lost and it's strange power,
That had beseeched my senses
When I'd fought for control
And urged myself to hold on a minute more-
Stare a little while longer at the much unknown eyes.
Eyes that the lips had fervently kissed-
Bleak eyes that looked at the figurine-
Merciless and stormy-
Pigeonholes worth poking pencils at.
Was this how it should have ended?
Without warning and some shared respect?
Carry on, the one who knew nought
The word of love.
It's too pure
For imbeciles to mostly forgo-
As they seek convenience spine-less-
Rush back home to known hearth-
Crushing hearts that are meant to die.
Funny how life mostly throws cowards
Along the way.
Men, who cannot stand up
For their belief-
As they choose what they're told to-
Pointed out the rights as they hurriedly shun the wrongs.
So easily they attribute purity to sin and weakness-
The girl must always suffer-
The perils.