Deceit Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

He watched the anger
grow behind her eyes:
caught out again, it seemed,
in one of oh so many, many lies.

But he had always
meant to tell the truth,
but had not managed it
so well, not since his youth.

Ease it was that drove
the first lies home,
in spite of fears and threats
of being damned to Kingdom Come.

And later, a sneaking
pride, born of increased successes,
carried him on to ever
more extravagant excesses.

And even later, the intricate
edifices of justification and intent
that had to prop up his every
action, utterance, sentiment.

As he carefully spoke and saw the anger
slowly change behind her eyes
he dimly realised: truth now
would be more deceitful than all his lies.