You lie to yourself
And so you tell me those same lies
But I can see thru them
To the truths, but not the why's

Why do you tell me false stories and extravagant fallacies, finding comfort in fake fairy tales ? For what fiend inside of your head chooses to find a detour in the complications and finite details pertaining to the legitimacy of your words? Does this foe fear having to face reality? Or wouldst such a felon ever admit to framing unfinished art and labeling 'finished'? For thee would not be forgotten or named fickle if found true; perhaps no longer fighting the truths may bring the freedom you've forever desired.