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
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