Lies

We played beside 

A dark lake, 

Accompanied by our deceitful 

Reflections. We tore the 

Night into little shards, into 

Which we were 

Subsumed. In every 

Direction, we found the solace 

Of anger, the ignominy 

Of violence. We plucked 

The flowers over the 

Lake, green from the sun, 

Terrified, as if 

In a secret garden. 

We touched the 

Earth under the water, 

Crumpled it into 

An insignificant tear, 

And threw it into 

The mirage 

Of memory. We 

Drew blood from 

Our inadequate ideas, 

Towards an unkempt 

Vision. 

We failed so miserably, 

And with such 

Celebration. 

We died holding hands, 

A patchwork of 

This and that.