joi, 5 mai 2011

The colour of a lie

The white lies, those intended to sooth and to comfort - they come out of heart, a weak one. But then, most hearts are weak, they all fall sick in some way or another. You could confuse them with white lilies. And not just by pronunciation: they kill with their beauty and they do so in quite an obvious fashion. In the end you catch up with them, you banish them from your bedroom. So then, quite an easy mistake to think a lie could be a flower.

There are the red ones, those mischievous and impertinent with the soul, pouring out of one's mouth to seek revenge, to bring torment. The relentless ache of the claw around our soul takes over and spills these lies. The body plays the role too because it is fascinated with the grip.
The grey lies are really nasty ones, told by people just to get by, not to produce misery but out of it. They are the urgent solution to a problem that is not a problem in the first place. We all patch our problems with some grey lies.

There are also lies dressed in pink, meant to phantom happiness were it is scant, the so-called innocent ones, that make the truth bearable. These are just for ourselves. Pink is a very strong colour - it can alter perception.

Black lies have a persistent and rather unpleasing aftertaste. You can feel them at any time, you just have to put the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth. They are whispered reprimands. Yet, we get used to this unusual taste so that we are tricked into thinking it was there since the beginning, this specific taste of our palate.

What else? Yes, the yellow ones! Well, it is pretty simple if you caught up with the game. They are just pretence for its own sake. We wear them when we feel naked. Quite easy to spot, too. Like the outer layers of an onion, in some respect. We all know what to find when the peel comes off.
So I can tell the lies by their colours. How about these little green lies? They've got me arrested. I just don't know, though I constantly hear them singing.

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