Deception
Dance With Darkness
Life's cruel setup, a rigged game, Played me, spun me in his web of deceit. He was A beacon of light, an ember of hope, Igniting my veins with life.
His laughter—a twisted symphony, He wore a mask of charm, wrapped evil in silk, adorned it with laughter a velvet touch, Smooth words that dripped like honey, Cloaked in pretty lies, seductive whispers, feeding on my trust.
You chewed the little bit innocence I had left, and spat out my dreams, Leaving me hollow, a vessel. I sought love—naive, relentless— But he, the architect of my undoing, His tongue—the weapon of a master, Twisting facts, spinning illusions,
A magician of half-truths and false vows, Leaving me lost, gasping for clarity. And control—he craved it like oxygen, His own self-reference the highest law, Ignoring feedback, rejecting accountability, A puppeteer pulling my strings, my autonomy.
He played on my sympathies, Demanding mercy while giving none, Warmth, forgiveness, intimacy—his demands! I’ve lingered in those same worn-out rooms. , Faces morphing, years blending, Yet the script remains unchanged.
How long can one sit with darkness? It seeps through the cracks, insidious, Like glue binding fractured pieces, A slow erosion of virtue, a corrosion of soul. You can’t toy with darkness and emerge unscathed. It stains your marrow, twists your compass, And when you see it— though it may look appealing, don't be fooled by its outward appearance.