All lies diminish me ---

As a card carrying member of the human race,
I consider it a disgrace,
when truth is subverted,
truth is diverted,
puts a frown on my face,
puts me in a bad place,
when truth is perverted in any way.

Lies weaken the laws of modern man--

If it's a shell game of opinion while avoiding fact,
modern society might as well take a giant step back.
To the plague days,
to the guillotine ways,
when might was right,
carry a big stick.
I dont want to go back to that.

Each lie told damages the soul ---

Are we here on earth to be false to each other,
to con with words or sister and brother? 
 To smother or dignity,  
break it and fake it,
knowing wrong from right but go ahead and forsake it?
I think no.

And the outcome of lying---

When those you trusted lie,
but don't  get busted - cry.  
Consider it the day truth died. 
 And down with the ship of truth goes honesty
       respect,
              rules,
                    civilization will fall.  
Tears to lend, prayers to send, 
lies will be the beginning, the middle, the end.
  Lies will be the death of us all.

like stars, her eyes following the path,
time moulded into its caves
the sky with its sapphire-mooned dome,
the rustling trees where the fast
wind swore and shook each crooked branch

here beyond the houses and the well-kept lawns,
the low walls and scrolled iron gates
the sounds of the night a bat’s wing,
the sagging wind gusting, smoke
peppering the sky from chimneys in a thin flame

or the jagged ice of a jaded moon
where the horses in the woodland
shook their manes, grey-eyed like
athene and her owl, untired as
a fog-spun sea, relentless and alive,

the trees and their ghosts around her
she held her breath, bare feet weaving
along the sandy track, dress flowing,
her arms covered in bracelets,
her lips, coral-pink, brushed in peppermint,

free to dream at last , eyes swallowing
the dark lines of the trees, hanging the dusk
from her eye lids, singing of the sweetness
of the night and its ragged clouds,
the raw dust of the moon.

her dreams were blue pools, the night
with its midnight leaves, her
heart longed to be free, to wander
through the trees as wild as the
horses with their stone-like manes

and sweeping metal hooves, brushed
with the inks of the sky in the shadowy
woods where everything was still but
not still, where the moonlight carved
its name in the woken tree.

The early bright chased away shadows in its slow rising scintillant song.  Very little stars were left in the sky.. The purples and oranges that painted the sky soon turned into atomoshere blue.  The dawn-to-dark song was in full bloom..  The lyrics sung about colors the light of the day would award my deep brown eyes. Some of them also spoke of the coming nighttide that was well on its way to catch us all.   On eventide I walk up to the hills.. The night slowly makes love to the day and lays her down to sleep..  There I begin to count the stars.. Until there are to many to count..  As there is no moon to shine down on my star parade I clearly see the vault of heaven in all its beautiful cosmic glory.. The night is in full bloom........