The gaze is blotted in places red
To peer through hollow doorways
Knowing souls, and those with thin standing
With their heart and with their world
To receive split mirages of words
Double lives behind double eyes
Do not know when their mouth moves
In tandem with sour beings
To speak of the devil with divine lies
To speak of the heavens with half-truths
It is all-knowing and none at all
The infantile marriage tastes
Like rosemary and thyme
But hemorrhages visions of clarity
To those that consume it