On this stage, I tread with silent dread,
Words like shadows, fall from a script so dead.
A play of dark lies, my well-rehearsed sorrow,
Masking the emptiness, I'm forced to borrow.
This shell is just an advertisement
For a soul that I don't have.
A façade so brittle, so frail,
Under your gaze, I cannot unveil.
Fear grips my voice, as truths dare to breach,
Hiding behind smiles I was never meant to reach.
An act so weary, yet diligently played,
Fearing your judgment, I stay dismayed.
This shell is just an advertisement
For a soul that I don't have.
A façade so brittle, so frail,
Under your gaze, I cannot unveil.
In the mirror, the tears I script,
Seek your pity as their perfect crypt.
Yet each droplet, a thief in disguise,
Stealing glances, wearing my lies.
Each step, each word, meticulously traced,
In the drama of falsehoods, my truth encased.
Listening for laughter, listening for tears,
An audience of one, confirming my fears.
This shell is just an advertisement
For a soul that I don't have.
A façade so brittle, so frail,
Under your gaze, I cannot unveil.