wayward glance
actions don’t match
actual stance
covert measures
designed to deceive
double speak, double talk
lacking reprieve
ostentatious
mirror and dance
feigning accomplishments
taking a chance
games of allusion
shatter the soul
promises broken
confuse, take a toll
the deck stacked and dealt
he observed as to plan
a past left unspoken
his cold-blooded hand
a feast of emotions
to line up and eat
methodical tokens
to take and defeat
information to hide
and suggest to defy
“accidently on purpose”
to plausibly deny
the hand that he dealt
mattered a great deal to me
there’s no honour in cheating
to get what you need
a fool’s grace
is knowing
when truth is a sham
the cloak that he’d fashioned
unmade by my hands
I watched and I learned
as this traitorous bloke
wrapped his lies in my truth
and I never spoke
his sins of omission
became tells and my trade
diluting the potions
he thought he had made
a wake of destruction
reigns in his past
sorrow and pleasure
his quiet repast
machinations and denial
Machiavellian traits
false constructs are notions
transparent to fate
​