Deception told me I could trust him, But he lied, mislead me,
Concealed his true identity,
Drove me into falsehood,
And caught me in his web of fabrication.
Deceit tormented me,
Eased my suffering for his personal gain,
A damsel in distress he could torture with an act of devotion.
But I was nothing more than a conquest.
Treachery was his truth,
“Talk to me” was the drug he used,
Destroying any self defence I had,
His words, disguised as a blanket of comfort,
Smothered me, held me in place,
It was a trap.
Time was the hidden dagger,
Held behind my back as I spoke,
But she, unaware, devoted,
Was his past and present,
His cherished treasure.
And I, unknowingly, the other woman.