Softly sing me a lullaby, whisper me a lie.
As I lie awake, sing me to sleep tonight.
Sing me a lie, something made of straw-
Give me tinted glasses so I won’t see my sores.
My blindness: I cannot see, but mirages in front of me.
The rock is nothing but a thin crust o’er a yawning pit.
Whisper me lies, cause I can’t bear the pain:
Even if it kills me, I don’t want to change.
Whisper me lies, tell me it’s all alright.
Let me have some peace of mind so I can sleep tonight.
Don’t tell me that my world is falling apart, don’t break my heart.
Don’t tell me I’ve lost my soul, don’t tell me the wretch thou art.
Even if you do, I will shout and drown you out.
In my twisted vision, I will turn truth and lies about.
Truth into lies, and lies into truth, whisper me lies
Something pleasant so I may sleep tonight.
Will I sleep tonight?
Story behind the poem:
Way back, hundreds of years ago, in a public trial, the judge cried out, “What is truth?”
His question still echoes today. But for the majority, there is now a new question: “Do we want the truth?”
Everywhere I look, I see lies. And bare-faced ones at that. I see people make statements, that are then whizzed around the web, which have no credibility, just a false sense of security. One day, all the lies will collapse. If we aren’t careful, we will find ourselves falling with them.