These simple
And faultless lies
Are spun from
Precious treasons
I commit in defense
Of villainy
On behalf of hate
Towards myself

Believing
Careless truths
By wearing veils
Unnatural
So the effort
Of feigning interest
Is work enough
To deceive

What fate
Describes in chance
As the hour
Of fallen pillars
When palaces
Made of answers
Crumble quick
Under weighted dreams

Like ploys
Of heaviest stone
Cracking walls
With daily pressures
And tearing holes
Beneath me
Till the floor
Gives out below

When empathy
Precedes death
As its faulty
Motivation
To maintain hope
By praying
Destruction
Has no cost

But the cure
Of raging souls
Which tremble much
From quaking
As sand
Between their footings
Shifts fast
And calls that bluff

Demolishing
Every inch
Of freedom
Built for changing
Where gold
Along this shadow
Outlines
Empty space

Proving
Words unread
Are the hurt
I’ve always needed
To redeem
My conquered riches
Like castles
Left for dirt

Kingdoms
Once unearthed
By daring feats
And martyrs
With excuses
Made exceptions
For the sake
Of keeping sane

Abandoned
As they lay
Now overgrown
And victim
To my fear
Of being useful
As I know
I’m always not.

– J. Pigno