A Beautiful Lie

You make out your own description

Your words you tell,
Your speech
spoken
so vividly well,
But all that has beauty
could also be
masqueraded lies,
It could even
be death itself,
a beginning of a
sweet demise,

 And so well is that voice
that you utter,
Eloquent,
 not ceasing to stutter,
The contingency of
them to be distracted
is unlikely,
As you beautify them
with flowers and stars
so nicely,

But too bad of a
song you are singing,
For this mind has
a slightly different upbringing,
It looks for things that aren’t
there,
Its paradigm incessantly
changes itself bare,

From there I could know it’s a story you are reciting,
Your eyes building plots in the air,
With gestures to distract while fabricating,
A story told unfair.