Conditioned To Lie
Love's like a flower; it needs time
to grow within the heart and soul.
And immature buds, though sublime,
don't all bloom and achieve their goal.
When passion's flame is dimmed by tears,
Hope overrides, being cautious.
Yet, as time slowly fuels fears,
anxiety leaves you nauseous.
Feeling the hurt that never stops,
you find yourself wanting to cry.
For misery turns to teardrops,
in a world conditioned to lie.
When a moth and flame start Death's waltz,
desire burns hotter than the fire.
Enamored, the moth sees no faults,
yet courting Death; it will expire.
A flame can only be a flame;
it can't change its natural ways.
And it feels neither love nor shame;
when its heart morphs into a blaze.
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