Fantasy -

Now we have have our lying cheater

Have remorse?

This whore forlorn?

You lying bitch, you cheat yourself

You left behind your life, you lost!

If you can look past this mirage…

You wipe these eyes to slow resolve

With this pixie dust your problems solved

Your gallantry of fantasy fight your wars remotely

A surrogate — not a real thing

A walking corpse — petrifying

The sleeping troops that you’re hiding

Mask the screams from within

You smear these eyes you have drawn on

With this caustic rust, your face decries

You fantasise of fantasy

Yet never live presently

Worthless scum — not a real thing

A walking curse — terrifying

The sleeping girl that you’re hiding

Jabs herself from a tin

Learn remorse before you’re gone

And in due course bear its fruits

And then at last look past this mirage!