Embellish your lies with a wreath
to evade the wretched truth.
Wrap it around them as a sheath,
prudent as to not show ruth.

Cajole me into thinking that
most harm done is inadvertent,
and those harmed are still intact,
on their way to the top, ascendant.

Plant in me the bliss
I have been yearning for.
Elate me with calmness
from the surface of my being,
down to my very core.

Expiate the job of the universe,
and allow us all to lapse.
Leaving behind a world--cursed,
yet free of sullen poets.