A bad philosophy.
Lies make a poor lamp with which to light the way,
Lies will snap the strings that bind each and every day,
A liar grows more grotesque as time goes slowly by,
A tortured fate awaits the willful soul of those who lie.
Like a siren's song that seduce the strongest men,
Or a shipwrecked on the shoals by an ill-fated wind,
Liars do beguile to breach one's protective shell,
Like cobblestone, lies lace the hottest road to hell.
What of occasionally casting a trite white lie?
Surely such a common thing won't damn a soul to die,
To practice such an unholy thing is a baited booby trap,
A liar is like an artisan whose sculpture is made of crap.
So, stay alert and open to the intrinsic things in life,
Save yourself the terrible pain of a liar's years of strife
Watch yourselves, my fellow hearts, so easily gone astray,
"The truth shall set you free," is more than just an old cliche.