I cannot turn lies into
truths. Though I do not
know what's truth and
what's a lie. But I know what
pains me is truth, and the lies
are that lie in you, unspoken.
Speaking truth always, I
ended up being empty. We never
fulfill our desires. Neither could I.
Could it be, what I supposed was
truth, in fact, was a lie? The phantom
watching our lies, leading us to truth,
perhaps, answers our uncertainties.