Jessea L. Vaughan's poem is a direct address to someone who lies, and it never lets up. The speaker begins with a big question about what a dishonest life actually amounts to, and answers it with a blunt, almost bored image: "wash rinse repeat." Lying becomes a dull routine, something "tasteless" and "unfulfilling" rather than clever or exciting. The speaker also points out that these are the very habits children are taught to avoid, which makes the liar sound like someone who never grew up.
Then the tone shifts. The speaker stops describing and starts pleading, repeating "O Teller of lies" like a call across a gap. The final questions ask what the liar gains from burning bridges, and the image of "ashes and pain" left behind suggests real damage to other people.
The mood is frustrated, sorrowful, and a little exhausted. The speaker sounds less like a judge than like someone hurt, still hoping for an answer that probably won't come.