[Emo supremo, for the win! =)]

He tricked my eyes with jungles of light;
He cheated my mind with words.
His Sun was really dressed in moon,
His halves split into thirds.

His voice, it rained a melody’s hand;
It shone a robin’s verse.
But his whispers coursed with lies and ash,
His footsteps sang a curse.

I didn’t know that fiction thrived
In his smooth and gentle hands.