Some lover's lips with honeyed lies are tainted,
The taste can be both devilish and divine.
Past affairs with a white washed brush are painted,
Such deceit can never truly be benign.
For knowledge of these lies will too soon pester.
As heart and mind are never far from akin,
And in your conscience they will surely fester,
While all the while, love's hatreds slowly begin.
Now honesty is shaded white with wonder.
While treachery dawns gray with unseen dangers,
For sometimes love is naught but foolish blunder,
And lovers merely two ill fated strangers.
Beware lips that speak of nothing but passion.
Lies beneath the red will always turn ashen.