Don’t you trust me?

A voice so soft, so sweet, so low,

it weaves its words, a tale to sow.

It hums like silk, it sings like trust,

yet leaves behind a trail of dust.

It speaks in echoes, warped and thin,

a hollow sound beneath my skin.

It shapes the truth, it bends the light,

turns day into dusk, and wrong into right.

It whispers, "Stay, you'll never leave,"

it coos, "Believe, but don't believe."

A tangled thread, a silver tongue,

a shadow's breath where lies are spun.

And still it lingers, soft and slow,

its poison seeping, drop by flow.

I chase the truth, I pull, I pry,

but all I hear is one more lie.