Deception

Deception1

She said she would come, all that comes is the sorrow,
Washed out by the joy of my drunkeness.
Oh but only on this dim eerie night will it comfort me, but not the morrow,
She will not come.2

For it did not tell me the pain it would bring,
In the morning, when my short lived joy is at an end.
But as the pain of a lost love will it sting?
Could something hurt more?3

Oh but it tricked me, as she once had,
To make me think it could wash away the pain,
And that everything would be all right in the day,
Was it even alright for the moment?4

Oh how it shifted in all the right ways,
Poured throughout the glass.
Oh how majestically did it's deep red shine.
It seemed it could comfort me, at least for the time,
So did she.5

Her form was so slender, her grace so mesmerising,
That it seemed as though she needed me most, as she said pouring lies
And so were the smooth red lips that I loved for so long,
Just a harbour of lies?6

If so then her eyes which I thought shone crystal blue,
Really shone as the tempest sea.
And her hair which I thought gleamed as the sun,
Really gleamed as the sands of it's shores.7

My belaboured body waits in agony,
As the wounded waits for help that will not come.
But the pain that was promised is all I await,
But the pain will not come.8

Neither will the woman, which has brought such ail in my life,
And I wait for the charge I must pay.
For ended, have I, her ill fated life,
What fate is to marry a killer?9

Was it I who deceived her, as I shifted the glass,
That night that I gave them the drink?
In front of her new man, her spouse that she loved,
I knew I was better.10

So I gave them the drink, and they drank their death,
Oh how smoothly it flowed past their lips.
As smooth as the plan I had set out for them,
Was I wrong?11

But they stayed awake, or was it my drunkenness,
That made it seem as though they still lived?
They mocked me and jeered, it must have gone wrong,
I must not have set it out right.12

So I tried it myself, just to make sure,
But it was all a trick.
The cold wine had gone down too smothly as it pounded as my head had felt.
And as I fell I looked beside me to see if it were true,
Beside me, there were two dead.13

She said she would come, all that comes is the sorrow,
Washed out by the joy of my drunkenness.
Oh but only on this dim eerie night will it comfort me, but not the morrow
She will not come.14

Deception.