Honeyed Lies Poem by David Whalen

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No More Than Honeyed Lies`

Our lives be naught but
Honeyed lies comprised
By capricious butterflies
so if it feels a bit surreal
You should not be surprised

That masked amongst
The fog and mist
lie scaley things that
writhe and twist
That hope and dreams
be not what they seem
And tis futile to resist

The dream in which
we think we dwell
exists only in our mind
sparkles of neurons
crackling of axons
an eerie kind of shine

we're naught but stardust coalesced
Naught but figments of fog
and mist
Yet are cursed or...perhaps blessed
to exist...to live and die
As naught but
...Honeyed lies...