In the wake of recent events
I have concocted a potion
Of lies and mischief
Of sins and virtue
One sip is a trip to nirvana
One glass is a slap in the face
But to see it, you must be blind
And to taste it, no tongue.
How can I exist if I'm not real?
How could you trust my deceit?
You should worry, for I tend to linger
But not too much, or your hair will turn grey.
Such an anomaly I am, one to never truly fade
But I stay in uniform and conform to complacency.