They took my hands, my heart, my trust,
Spoke in whispers, warm and just.
They wove their words in golden thread,
Then left me hollow, left me bled.

Like autumn leaves in bitter wind,
They danced with me, then shed their skin.
A fleeting spark, a fleeting light,
Now lost within the endless night.

They carved my name in tainted lies,
A shadowed truth behind their eyes.
Yet here I stand, though torn, unbowed,
No longer silenced by the crowd.

For though they cast my soul away,
I rise anew to meet the day.
Their echoes fade, their masks dissolve,
And I remain—whole, resolved.