By Sotto Voce {sotto_voce@iname.com}
Date: 15 June 1998

Prevaricator

I study your eyes and know you are a liar.
Your intellect is full but your soul is pure sin.
It is the seat of feeling, of which you have none.
Your own spirit is of uncertain origin.

From where does your lie come and what is its purpose?
Your breath carries lies and your heart pretends feeling.
The eyes are the gateway through which I must explore.
If I find your soul it may lead to my healing.

I burst through your eyes and dive beneath your lens.
Beyond the retina and down the optic nerve.
Now I can search for the love that was never there.
I will find the fiend whom I hopelessly serve.

I follow your blood through your veins and arteries.
Your heart is but a simple and hollow organ.
It beats rhythmically but mechanically.
Because of your deception I search only in vain.

I follow your neurons through your synapse junctions.
Your cells conduct unaltered electricity.
They carry impulses but no human urges.
For want of substance I expose such vanity.

They say the immortal soul elevates us all.
Your soul does not exist and cannot be found.
Now I know why I struggle just to feel your words.
I searched so deeply to find that you are not sound.


Every part of me knows you are a liar.
I try to forget your abyss of emptiness.
I lend feeling from my own soul to your cold words.
Truly I lie to myself with such hopelessness.

I am in a relationship just with myself.
Do you love me?  Do I love you?  Do I love me?

I am the true liar.
My heart and soul know this.