DEAD WORDS IN MY THROAT

Everyone wears a mask of whispers,

truth hides behind crooked grins.

I am no exception.

My promises crumble,

even my soul is a cloak.

I’m not a monster…

or maybe I am.

I want things to be right

yet I fail.

I fail to heal.

I cannot trust you.

I cannot trust that I cannot trust you.

I cannot trust that I do not trust

that I cannot trust you.

They say the end justifies the means,

but it only reveals

the cruelty of man.

He kills, he destroys,

and then he clothes his sins

in excuses.

Man is wicked.

His heart, dry as desert sand.

He fakes love,

he manipulates,

he smiles at ruin

and calls it life.

Satan tempts, deceives, destroys,

for he refuses to perish alone.

But man,

man sins because he loves it.

Humankind…

a mistake?

I cannot say.

I only know this:

the good are few.

To err is human.

But the good repent,

while the wicked

bathe in their darkness

and call it joy.

Mankind is doomed.

Yet if you love,

if you help,

if you correct yourself,

go forward.

For man is a lie.

And you,

will you keep wearing the mask,

or dare to face the truth,

even if it burns your eyes?