Bewitching Deceit

Beautiful to the bones.
Innocent to the eyes.
But the songbird's broken wings
Reveals the perfect little lies.

Deep within the cheval glass,
Gaunt form is an absolute pith,
Though only sights of an epic tale,
Containing a million different myths.

So fly, fragile Nightingale.
Escape your environs's charm,
Holding these perfect little lies
Causing perfect little harm.

Smiles in the distance.
Laughter all around.
The secret is fatally gorgeous,
Yet all is common ground.