I used to think that
The machiavellians are characters of fiction
Confined to the Agatha Christie movies
Until one day my life became the big screen
Master of projections and mind games
You killed the innocence in me
Trying to prove to people who you really are
Felt like screaming into abyss
Once upon a time
I believed that life is what you make it
I got my head out of the clouds it seems
You have to have your wits about you
Because human predators don’t go for your neck
They go for your psyche
Manipulation being the primary tactic
Sweet words roll easy
From dishonest tongue
Before you know it
Your guard is down
The handsome Prince Charming
Morphs into a villain
Trust gets broken
Old wounds triggered
