Fränz Müller

Repercussions

The lighthouse beacons that burn your eyes,

cut to the heart, cut through the lies;

fog of dishonesty dissolves in your gaze;

deception destroyed by those terminal rays!

Alas, all is lost!  the mask falls apart;

the ruse disassembles, the end has its start.

Undoing unbearable, languishing loss;

Consumed in your furnace, discarded as dross.