The Story of the Liar

Come, hear the story of a young, wealthy fool,
And his life of betrayal and lies,
And justice will come by the beat of the drum,
And the liar will meet his demise.

One morning arose to the fool without woes,
O'er the window, where simmering pies,
Did cheerlessly rest and dreading their guests,
The unwelcome common house flies.

The poor wife sat weaving and soundlessly seething,
Or daring a rebellious sigh,
"Reader, let it be known, that my husband's throne,
Next to mine is comparatively high."

"No matter," she said, with a toss of the head,
And a manic twinkle of the eye,
"For tonight is the night, that I end his plight,
I assure you, his death is nigh."

Do not ye turn pale at this turn of the tale,
Nor laugh, nor shiver, nor cry,
For she had a good reason for this family treason,
For she was a victim of lie.

For he favoured a treat, so he took to the streets,
With gold and a devilish eye,
To pick out his harlot or naive little starlet,
To share a black carnal cry.

So, that morning he rose to his widow's rose,
Crossed the window with night in disguise,
Shared a kiss to dismiss his right to exist,
And sold his soul to the skies.

She followed his feet through the dirtiest streets,
While he searched for the rose of his eye,
When the brutal attack of a knife in the back,
Came gleefully down from on high.

"Let those whimsical tuppence be your come-uppance",
She spat, in replace of goodbyes,
Then she fled from the place and concealed her face,
Crying a guilty widow's cries.

She never was found, but she became renowned,
As the mad one who asked herself "Why?"
By the ones she berated and mercilessly hated,
It resulted in her suicide.

So ends the story of a young, wealthy fool,
And his wife, who tragically dies,
And justice had come by two beats of the drum,
And the liars are ones we despise.

But they do seek death by their lies.
And all of them will find demise.
The fates and the gods of the skies.
Will laugh at their dead carnal cries.
As each one willingly dies.