THE LIE OF A SPHINX

A lie to the sphinx made it stone
that it would be remembrance of the lone
but moment of life had importance in a pawn
and the fatigue of ecstasy is that life
when flowers bloom in a château
of an empire flat in it stomach of a plateau
if satisfaction has made a helix
a helix of confusion in the wake of a sphinx
the moment of life is a spell in its jinx

Regrets bloom ripples on the pool
the placid surface of the sea mirrors the sky
when snookers are broken on the pool
while the tone of curiosity asks why
for the lilt of mystery enchants the clock
while waves send goodbyes to a weak ship in the dock
a tear of hopelessness is an elixir
that dances on the fountain of belief
it is a winery drunk in its stupor
maybe billowing steam is not hot like vapor
When aesthetics fall out of beauty
it hardens a heart after falling out of pity
and madness may send reality away
if the attention of deception parades to sway
like April it were after May
the flow of time would still make a river
for the stream of events to quiver
that coldness of deception will not shiver
if money is worth the paper of its calligraphy
the third face of a coin is worth its geography
The desire of a sad dune
is not to quench swiftness of a quicksand in its rune
like a proud sun casting light away from moon
a talk in a tomb is not a reflection of life's goon
while chuckle in a palace is not valor
it is a giggle of misery that dulls brilliance of gold
an echo of happiness in the desert is an oasis
the moment of life brings tidings of a crisis
when the truth visits the desert in rolling tides
and the talking sphinx becomes stone
after drowning in deception of a dry truth...