Lying Is

A Practiced Art

Lying is a practiced art: the habits ingrained in their youth.

Some were programmed to deceive, deny the truth to keep them safe.

Their grand illusions illustrate a perfect state of stasis held.

Where balanced scales are held above as evidence of virtue kept and promises of safety nets.

Some will lie to keep them where delusions float reality.

They climb the ride deception brings and our emotions have no place.

Where shame will drive illusions deep and feed us truth of wrongness told.

I pick them up and pack them deep til I’m convinced these views are mine.

Until I hear the messages that bring me words to break the spell, invite a vulnerability that helps to change my point of view.

Mythology protects my mind: they can’t convince me lies are true.

And when my questions make a shift the veil lifts from the camouflage revealing how he used our thoughts to build himself a woeful tale.

We pull the rubber band and feel it sharply snap back into place.

And when we see the broken spells reality does not exist.

A change that’s forced will never last, but when illusion circles round perspective shifts and spirit wins.