(This poem is the second part to my previous poem 'My Beautiful Lie' http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=36793)

The lie I created I hid far behind,
Blind - vacuous and vapid, my rapid descent
Into madness was sealed, with gladness
The concealed face of my own lot was lost
And the cost of this deception was total,
Brutal at the very point of inception,
The question though - what have I done?
The truth was undone and the lie became loose
And could not be contained though I strained
Just to keep it within, but too late,
It was free, punished me, brought insidious glee
But no more than a lie was it,
Born as I cried for it, broke on the floor as it
Nurtured a love that was poor and emaciated
Broken and wasted and what for?
The question remained, but my conscience was stained
As I fed on the lie until all had been fooled -
I down-tooled, tried to stop, but too late
For the damage was done, from the top I had fallen,
Appalling, like Icarus scorched by the sun.
Both he and I strived for the utmost untouchable,
But instantly fallible, lost with the dawning of truth.
The noose had been slung, but still blind by the lie,
Unaware of this foolishness, arrogant bullishness
Burnt these wax wings to the core, the floor being met
As we plummet in flames, meet the lie that was left
Now deep rooted in earth, I, destitute, bereft,
Try to claw my way out of the mess I have made;
Try to claw my way out of my grave.