In the garden of whispered dreams,
Where shadows dance in moonlit beams,
A heart once pure, now torn apart,
By the craft of a deceiver’s art.

Promises woven in silver threads,
Echo softly where silence treads,
Yet beneath the gentle guise,
Lies the truth in a web of lies.

Eyes that sparkle with borrowed light,
Hide the truth from the soul’s sight,
Yet in the quiet of the night,
The heart discerns the wrong from right.

Oh, love that blooms on fragile ground,
Amongst the echoes of hollow sound,
May the truth unravel the guise,
And set free the heart that cries.