Deception, a term I never claimed,
Yet now the truth has me untamed.
I weave the guise of saintly grace,
Pretending kindness, wearing a face.

I craft illusions of love so bright,
Yet deep within, I harbor spite.
In hatred’s grip, I twist and turn,
A vile creature with much to learn.

Goals I held, so close yet far,
Trapped in the shadows of my own bizarre.
Proclaiming purity, naive and true,
While hiding the darkness that’s born anew.

I speak of manipulation, a master’s art,
Blinded to the lies that dwell in my heart.
Bonds I’ve shattered, lives undone,
The guilt, it seems, I’ve never known.

For in the mirror, the truth’s laid bare:
I’ve loved but one—myself, laid bare.
The obsession with hate, a cruel embrace,
Reflects the monster I’ve come to face.

I harmed the one I claimed to adore,
Yet here I stand, breathing once more.
Promises made to stop this fight,
Now echo softly in the dead of night.

Demons I loathed still reside within,
Controlled by me, a twisted kin.
Is it regret that haunts my mind,
Or the weight of the lies I’ve left behind?

Master of deception, indeed I stand,
A tangled web spun by my own hand.