Looking back, in hindsight, without my rose tinted glasses.
I could see all the red flags I've missed from the start.

Mortals may think that death is the finally ending.
For you, my love; it's merely the beginning.

You cant see
red flags
when wearing
rose-tinted glasses.

I asked for the truth,
and you shapeshifted to sleuth,
crawling on your belly,
you simply misconstrue
an irrefutable, objective verity.

Tried and true, misunderstanding
what is out of your view.

Standing and demanding
but never understanding the variable,
to which not all lives,
will play out
the same way.