☘️ Ireland of Dreams ☘️
Liars Listen to the Wind
♫ Policy Of Truth ♫ - Depeche Mode
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Narcissus
by A.B. Yousuf
You sulk behind silk curtains,
dead empty eyes, their cheers ring higher.
A plastic smile, you take the stage,
you’re ready to perform, you liar.
Each word conveys conviction
with no dull or doubtful lines.
The borders of reality
are constructs to define.
So rearrange the details,
make the rest up as you go;
then pencil in the finer points
and claim it’s all you know.
Curate your facts selectively,
discard some as you please.
You'll proudly stand in fantasy
but truth brings you to knees.
Deluded or deceitful?
Nobody knows but you.
You feign your falsehoods focally,
they trust that they’re all true.
How can one live a life,
where nothing true is true?
Do we share a sun,
or do you fantasize that too?
Quite fond of your reflection,
but it's puzzling what you see.
It's doubtful you would recognize
the creature that you seem.
A bow, you’ve said your piece,
they've all marveled at your feats.
The floor's flooded with roses,
and they prostrate at your feet.
The curtains start to close;
the crowd begins departing.
Lights shut off one by one,
it's just you and the darkness. •°*”˜.•°*”˜
Liars Listen to the Wind
♫ Policy Of Truth ♫ - Depeche Mode
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Narcissus
by A.B. Yousuf
You sulk behind silk curtains,
dead empty eyes, their cheers ring higher.
A plastic smile, you take the stage,
you’re ready to perform, you liar.
Each word conveys conviction
with no dull or doubtful lines.
The borders of reality
are constructs to define.
So rearrange the details,
make the rest up as you go;
then pencil in the finer points
and claim it’s all you know.
Curate your facts selectively,
discard some as you please.
You'll proudly stand in fantasy
but truth brings you to knees.
Deluded or deceitful?
Nobody knows but you.
You feign your falsehoods focally,
they trust that they’re all true.
How can one live a life,
where nothing true is true?
Do we share a sun,
or do you fantasize that too?
Quite fond of your reflection,
but it's puzzling what you see.
It's doubtful you would recognize
the creature that you seem.
A bow, you’ve said your piece,
they've all marveled at your feats.
The floor's flooded with roses,
and they prostrate at your feet.
The curtains start to close;
the crowd begins departing.
Lights shut off one by one,
it's just you and the darkness. •°*”˜.•°*”˜