Your eyes hold deceit,
Deceit and love for the game,
The game of lies,
Eyes of lies
When they first called you deceit,
I couldn’t hear,
But your last is forever clear,
A last name that paints a trail,
A blood red trail,
A dark trail of a family tree,
The family tree perfect for hanging,
Skeletons hanging from noose tied branches,
Swaying in your calming breezes,
I couldn’t see but am starting to feel,
The breeze of deceit
You have created the serpent,
The bites I have yet to feel,
Evolved into what you fear most,
When coming and going seem the same
Size is but fixed as to where you can roam,
Roaming where your tail resides,
Perceived competition in such a small World,
Only to defeat would be your answer,
Your poisonous bite paralyzing your body,
Turn to feel as your breezes turn to gails,
Listen as your skeletons begin to wail,
Watch as your tree falls,
See as your eyes burst,
And know as I remove your head from your body,
Know that your lies will end.
Written in mid-1990’s by Chris
Honesty … I am not as deranged a person as this poem makes me out to be. Just one of those things where painful memories bubble to the surface ….
Related Posts:
- * Your Game – Poem
- * Magical Wonders – Poem
- * Cliff – poem
- * Past Tomorrows: Poem
- * Poem: Sickly Sort
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By: Sahara 
By: Jonathan Downin