Why am I trapped in this silk web of lies,
And who is this spider that traps me so?
His eyes are closed but they are still my eyes.
I am lost always trapped in his shadow.
How insubstantial is this silk that binds
That's built on such a fragile thing as guile.
The lies I tell the lie I live it blinds.
I am judge and jury at my own trial
And the executioner wears my face.
As I raise the sword above my own head
And bend my neck to welcome it's embrace.
A single tear tracks down his/my face. Red.
Why can't I see past my own disguise?
His eyes are closed, but they are still my eyes.