A casual fraudulent faker,
spoon feeds his counterfeit truths to eyes and ears that never realize.
Without a choice,
like a child in mother's womb
they eat the filth that is given.
With a belly full of lies and fears,
the unfortunate dismal-dreamers
come closer to their mistaken reasons of reality.
Covered by an artless cloak of fallibility,
where they cannot see but are always observed,
an infectious ignorance turns the seekers' attention
to the Swindler's, monstrous, monologue.
A true casuist,
dedicated to his hustle.
Reassuring each and every false concern
oxidizing the ability to discern.
Still... one over the other people fumble.
Ready to take a gamble
With nothing to offer but their lives.
Taking chances they roll the dice
only to make the same mistake twice.
Shame they'll never realize,
the pain is not physical
it is much more genuine than that.
The cure is not literal
It is more evasive than love.
It rests in the mind and soul
places with little to no control.
But the servants keep coming,
the crowds keep flooding,
and the Charlatan keeps smiling,
because only he knows
the larger the toll,
the longer the debt,
the more they'll forget,
and hell takes it's payments
in the form of all regrets.