Liar's Death by Gregory Harvey


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“There is order in the anarchy,”
the Deception said to me,
“The human race moves forward,
towards its destiny.”

The wind against his face
blew his hair back into place –
each strand was like a worm,
I watched them twist and turn.
There were specks upon his eyes –
this thing that could not cry –
and each tick of his soiled heart
was counting his demise.

But he spat it out again (as if I hadn’t heard)
and so once again I listened to every single word.

“There is order in the anarchy,”
the Deception said to me,
“The human race moves forward,
towards its destiny.”

He was lying in the sands
with scars across his hands –
some of them still bled
and on them leeches fed.
His face was turning dark –
his last moment about to pass –
and all the breaths he now took
were but stunted gasps.

Yet he spat it out once more (as if I hadn’t heard)
and so once again I listened to every choking word.

“There is order in the anarchy,”
the Deception said to me,
“The human race moves forward,
towards its destiny.”

And when it came the time,
his hands reached for mine –
I dared not to touch
(his words were quite enough).
Then his eyes began to stare –
his mind no longer there.
Yet the wind still played amongst
his long and twisting hair.

Yet my mind echoed onwards with the lie that I had heard
and so once again I listened to every blasted word.

“There is order in the anarchy,”
the Deception said to me,
“The human race moves forward,
towards its destiny.”