In a wotld of make-up
those who judge by their eyes
will laterselves despise
the bed you lie in
is for lying
lest the heart
it's truth impart
make believe
is what they give
so many fooled
yet they but drooled
there is no room
tobeat the tomb
they never think
'bout anything
but what they want
and what they can't
so sad to see
mortality
degrades the soul
and hides the goal
the haert requires
terrible fires
cast by the crowd
not yet endowed
but truth will out
there is no doubt
the price we pay
soliloquy
of loving all
whilst most will stall
two miseries
but just one frees
the loy inside
won't be denied
lie to oneself
and nothing's left...