REFLECTIONS · Poetry
To the God Who Tricks Us with Beauty
By Aryan Ansarizadeh · Originally published Oct 7, 2026
Fool I have lied,
The truth for some time.
No one shall know what’s what,
For I shall lie and die!
Some live the line unbroken,
A few are troubled — they sleep.
Soon, the turn will be over, so
If you are waiting, do not wait, just leap.
My God to you, this land of sand,
Gone with a wind you blow.
Such fall can call the sirens to bay,
Fallen I am, and golden I say, yet I do not seem to glow.
To you, God, I am but this fool,
Half lived, half dead, half gone away.
Holy water shall do me good,
But this drought has drowned sin with sin.
Cry me a dune, for rivers run dry.
Sing me a song, you siren of gods.
Tell of the land where I live in full,
Away from wretched filth of rule.
Poisoning beauty, you liar of lies!
Hell was just heaven, but not for you.
God of trickery and falsely truth,
I have come to woe, in this life, just you.
My life has been ruined, so you could see,
With blinding lights a’twinkle in your eyes.
I wanted to shine as bright as stars,
But you have got me slaved with only scars.
It was you, or perhaps me,
That left me alone leaving.
Cleaning so deep, I find peace in only sleep,
What fate for me now are you weaving?