A lyric poetry collection explores lie and love as the world tightens its grip, moving from intimate confession to quiet catastrophe. These poems track how affection can become a shelter-or a disguise-and how truth, when it arrives, often does so too late, too softly, or only after damage is done. Reading the book feels like walking through a late-hour city: streetlights flicker, messages arrive with missing lines, and every vow is tested by the sky. As the end of the world nears, the speaker's voice changes. Early poems bargain with denial, trading tenderness for plausible deniability. Later pieces strip language down to its bones, asking what remains when promises no longer protect anyone. Between collapse and devotion, the collection holds fast to small human rituals-letters unsent, hands reaching, breath shared-then questions what those gestures mean when survival becomes a bargain. Through imagery of decay and devotion, the book insists that love is not always the opposite of a lie. Sometimes it is the only form of courage left, and sometimes it is the lie that keeps you walking forward.