A glittering lie sits quietly in the palm,
promising sunrise inside a midnight mind,
a sweet poison dressed in velvet laughter,
a borrowed joy that charges ruthless interest.
It speaks in honeyed tongues, a gentle thief,
stealing pain today with soft, numbing fingers,
yet planting storms beneath silent veins,
where tomorrow grows thorns in the bloodstream,
and healing becomes a distant rumour.
The body, once a temple, cracks like dry earth,
lungs whisper ash, the heart forgets its rhythm,
a smiling killer dances in the marrow,
while organs drown in invisible floods.
O deceptive comfort, bitter-sweet betrayal,
you cage the flesh with invisible iron bars,
chain the will with silk that tightens slowly,
turn freedom into a shrinking corridor,
where each step forward echoes like retreat,
and escape becomes a fading myth.
Coins vanish like mist in a burning wind,
dreams auctioned for a fleeting high,
poverty wears the face of indulgence,
and hunger learns to speak in silence.
The spirit dims, a candle in a storm,
faith fractures under chemical shadows,
hope becomes a stranger at the door,
and prayers dissolve into empty echoes.
What cured the ache now authors deeper wounds,
a cruel healer with a poisoned touch,
today's relief becomes tomorrow's ruin,
and the soul pays dearly for borrowed joy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem