The lies that you weave
Are like a spiders web
Intricate and delicate
A twisted fabrication

The way that you string
Your words to fit your reality
Are a tragedy
For only the victim is the casualty

Believing words that you spew
Yet it holds no truth
Since your maleficent venom
Holds no weight

It's sort of like a play
Where you cue scene
And suddenly a twilight
Of neon hues circle the atmosphere

Then cue lightning
The flash strikes a tree
Bursting into flames
As those bright red embers

Dance on the tip of your tongue
Such fabrication
Have never been told better
For you've practiced it long term

The master of that craft
What motivation do you possess
To weave such
Twisted fabrications.