You wore what was never yours,
a borrowed glow, a fleeting spark.
Took from me what you could never keep,
thinking it would make you whole.
You lied, hiding in kindness,
a friend to all, yet none to me—
tempting the men, weak, the blind,
while the serpent beneath you stayed unseen.
I watched you weave your web of lies,
your emotional affairs,
and wondered how long it would take
before the truth of the world shattered your mask.
You asked for forgiveness, but it was just a game,
manipulation masked in sweet tones, all the same.
Behind the mask, the devil you remain,
while karma waits, your son will bear the pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem