Life is so interesting and it is a base truth that even the best criminal leaves a trace to link to the truth behind. Some links can hardly be erazed. How truthful are we if a mirror were to be flashed to our face? How true is the image we see? Faking ourselves so much and dwelling in falsehood and pseudo deliberations to save our faces, how much have we really been able to save compromising on what we have lost, is it worth it?
Sometimes out of a juvenile lust, we run behind a trace and the trails lead us to a combustible heap of shattering, mangled truth that makes the lies we believed in coil up and wriggle, ushering a frantic cry from a vacuum. A time when anything we do becomes justifiable for the half naked truth that we were made to believe that just clouded us black.
Lies! Glorious lies! Dig in and dig in deeper and there we find truth simpler yet unconfessed... as we dig it is not the lies that shatters us yet the pain of digging that we don't want to dig any more. Thus lost, we let go... wanting to dig no more. If the truth that was hidden was more important than the one lied to.