Liars

All poets are liars
And all liars wisemen
As they spin from their lips
A false image of truth

All things to believed
Are broken mirrors
As they twisted portray
A distorted reflection

All truths and all lies
Are but each other changed
Across the dreamy plains
A wild dance interchange

All thoughts in dreamscape forge
Are artfully created
Across their shining surface
Among liars walk the truth

No poets nor liars
Are flat surface ponds
Across the glassy waters
Among truth stands the lie

No poets nor liars
Neither truth nor lies
Reflect reality
But a distorted image thereof
So who is to say who lies and who does not
Which are true and which are false
But a matter of perception
"All possible to be believed are an image of the truth"
Like the twisted images of distorted mirrors
Can that which exists be a lie?