un|dead illusion|ist

The jig has been up
So what’s with the illusion?
I have disbelieved

Your next words are false
why you have made this persist
Still escapes my grasp

You’re a charlatan
magicians at least have pride
know when to pack up

But you have nothing
No timing, no moves, no heart
Just this tired game

I’ve derived the rules
A game I should have beaten
But I see no prize.

I deem this game trash
A pile of tired garbage
Left in the gutter

The bare morningstar
Like the silver sword of tongues
Calls it to an end

With one stroke he said:
sticks and stones may break ones bones
but words devastate.

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~ by songoflove on February 25, 2017.

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