@THE𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐄 ORIGINAL
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SUSPICION
a feeling or thought that something is possible, likely, or true.
In the halls of silence, where shadows creep,
Secrets whisper softly, dark and deep.
Isolation's grip, a vice unseen,
Hides the madness where we've always been.
The walls are painted with deceit,
A labyrinth of lies beneath our feet.
Voices echo, distant, strange,
In this place where minds derange.
Assessments come, but answers fade,
Questions linger, truths evade.
Why are we the only ones to roam,
In this desolate asylum, far from home?
Therapies that twist and turn,
Leave us broken, minds that burn.
They probe our thoughts, our very soul,
In a quest for something they control.
Behind the masks of care, they hide,
Their fear and loathing magnified.
We're pawns in games we can't perceive,
In this house of horrors, hard to believe.
Isolation binds us tight,
In the darkness, there's no light.
Yet in the stillness, we conspire,
To find the truth, to spark the fire.
What are they seeking in our pain?
In our suffering, what do they gain?
These questions haunt the silent nights,
In this asylum, devoid of lights.
We look for clues, we strain to see,
The reasons for our misery.
In the records, redacted lines,
Hide the secrets, their designs.
Suspicion grows with every day,
In this place where shadows play.
We must uncover what they hide,
And find our freedom from inside.
In the halls of silence, we will fight,
Against the darkness, for the light.
For in this labyrinth, cold and grim,
Hope's faint whisper calls within.
