Wounds that scarred

Masquerade

In a world of masks and masquerade,
Where truth and lies dance in the shade.
Where faces are hidden, hearts are afraid,
To reveal the depths of the masquerade.

Behind the painted smiles and elaborate guise,
Lies a world of secrets, hidden ties.
Each mask a story, a carefully crafted disguise,
Concealing the truth, weaving a web of lies.

The masquerade ball, a grand affair,
Where nobles and peasants mingle without a care.
Where identities are obscured, unknown and rare,
Leaving behind a sense of mystery in the air.

The music plays, the dancers twirl,
In a whirlwind of colors, a mesmerizing swirl.
The masks shimmer, the fabric unfurls,
Revealing the hidden desires that lurk and curl.

But beneath the veneer of glamour and grace,
Lies a darkness, a shadowy place.
Where secrets are buried, without a trace,
And the truth is lost in the masquerade's embrace.

Each mask a reflection of the wearer's soul,
A glimpse into the depths, an insight, a goal.
To hide or reveal, to play a role,
In the never-ending drama of the masquerade's toll.

Who is behind the mask, who wears the disguise?
A question unanswered, a mystery that lies.
In the heart of the masquerade's disguise,
Where truth and lies forever intertwine.

The fortune teller reads the cards,
Predicting the fates of the masquerade's bards.
The magician performs his dazzling cards,
A spectacle of illusions, a facade.

But in the end, when the masks come off,
When the truth is revealed, when we scoff.
At the lies we believed, at the illusions we saw,
In the masquerade's game, where we all withdraw.

The masquerade, a reflection of life,
Where truth and lies cut deep like a knife.
A dance of shadows, a play of strife,
Where we all wear masks, in the ongoing rife.

But in the end, when the masks are shed,
And the truth is revealed, in the silence, in the dread.
We realize that the masquerade is never truly dead,
For we all wear masks, in the life we lead.