The Conceit of Virtue

The truth accounts for a fiendish bill But lies are sweet and lovely, still Honorable tasks corrupt the will The loyal betray for an easy thrill Trust is a burden on brittle bones Deceit makes light of painful groans Faith declared: knees bend on stones!  While pious deniers sit on thrones Sincerity dissembles for your demise Tricksters will only blind your eyes Candor swarms the dead like flies And devious minds honestly advise Righteousness is both prison and warden Sinners are angels they need no pardon Modesty is yet another lavish garden Where tender hearts learn to harden Silence is a scream of ignoble deeds That provoke even Saints to immoral needs A life in deference to righteous creeds Finally lives when virtue bleeds