In shadows deep where trust doth fade,
A figure lurks, a masquerade break,Â
A heart of stone, a twisted soul,
Whose deceitful ways took my toll.
A puppeteer of woven lies,
Dances ‘neath deceptive skies,
His words a web of silken threads,
Entangling hearts in endless spreads.
Who cared not for the bonds of trust,
But all promises of fleeting gusts,
To him, all ties are mere charades,
In pursuit of lust, his soul cascades.
 Ardor prey on heart with longing ache,
Innocent innocence sought to break,
Those selfish whims his only guide,
Brutal to empathy and care subside.
To him, love’s tender flame’s a game,
A conquest and not a heartfelt claim,
He feeds on hunger, on craving’s call,
Leaving broken hearts to fall.
To guard thy heart, Â to heed those signs,
Never trust that love that rarely  shines.
Faith is buried in shadows’ art,
The core is numb of wounded heart,
Belief is ravished by fleeting lust,
The bizarre  heart, reclaim again one lying trust.
_Mou
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