Some are so very good at it.
Others, not so much.
Those so carefree about it,  
cheaters, who's to trust?

Swindle me, my lover.
It's happened a few times before.
My "don't give a ****," proponent
has kicked in, that's for sure.

Being nonchalant, about it,
is all that I can do.
For I've lost all trust, don't doubt it.
I'm as insouciant as you.

Is why we're made for each other,
on this we can both rely.
It frees me, from anxiety,
how we both do cheat and lie.

Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith

Deadlock stubbornly cracked

Divide intensified with fact so backed

****** is truth, lost memory's wraith

"Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith


Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty

To nothing has my life compared

And as most humans, no heartache spared

No limits to its reverence and constancy

As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty


Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High

Omnipotent theories to query

Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri

Reasonably these to view before bye-bye

Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die