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Web of Lies
by Christine E. Striemer ~CES~
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Your flaming words
like little diamonds,
polyhedral,
engraved gems
at depots in
her darkened mind.
Consolation
of a thirsty
innocent soul
for romantic
passion's heartbeat.
She's hurt by you!
She believed that
they were purchased
in bloodthirsty
hellish deep mines
down in Africa
through skinny hands
of black children,
who were hungry
for altruism's truth.
You had bought them,
man, so cheaply,
in odd bazaars
of illegal,
artificial,
rare gems workshops,
up there in the
liar steppic cold.
Tiny diamonds,
so resistant,
her dropping tears,
they have washed you
and let you nude
in front of your
own being's needs and,
in the end squashed,
you have fled in
violent escape.
Your silent scream
unresponsive
to her carnage.
You, through your lies,
ashamed yourself.
And the love which
you felt, was like
flame retardant
grenade, cut
the victim's guts
as bad as yours,
the addicted
storyteller's.
So, well yes, she
will recover...
You have been lost,
just sat upon
a continuous
dream's illusion.
