Whisperings of Guilt
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When your heart shuns flattery's lies,
it opens and lets the truth in.
And time mutes the varied voices
fear once amplified deep within.
You know of love's magic through dreams,
where hope's crumbling walls get rebuilt.
And the sanctuary of sleep
banishes whisperings of guilt.
Your mind's a fantasy playground;
filled with flashes of second sight.
And skeletons of memories,
time's acid tears, have bleached bone white.
Tricksters and Angels coexist;
within echoes of silent screams.
And weave wishes with silver threads;
in reality's world of dreams.
Tricksters spin what you want to hear
their prime motivator is lust.
And like a whisper in the wind
their words are not tethered to trust.
Angels detest the emptiness
that eats away at lonely hearts.
And try to fill your heart with smiles;
they gather as each new day starts.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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