Isn't it odd how one's own mind can betray them?
How morals and values can be ignored by the very lips they sailed?
Not the betrayal of a mind affected by age:
the memories warped and grey, worn and tattered,
from countless times of recounting and resurrecting thoughts.
The distance between the mind's truth and reality.
The cruelty of how she can guide you,
hopping and skipping merrily,
towards a path of darkness and destruction.
Toying with your perception of the truth.
Who's truth?

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