The Lying Lady
A tale of woe, deceit and dread,
Of love now turned to sadness spread.
In blame my gaze did fall upon,
A window frame, with truth upon.
A sight most dire, 'twas clear to see,
She with another man so free.
Her lover came, and to him she kissed,
A deception, an art she had perfected.
He believed her sweet, beguiling lies,
Unknowing of her devious disguise.
But her false love was not to last,
For truth can always break.
She left, with lies to ensnare,
A betrayal to leave despair.
A scarring wound that lingers still,
A love to break a fragile urn of will.
A trust that's been made false and fake,
A love that crumbles to heartbreak's wake.
This tale of woe did teach me clear,
No spark of falsehood should I hold so dear.
For lies can burn and leave a scar,
That takes eons to heal afar.
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