Tangled Web

The masks we wear, a subtle, shifting guise, A tapestry woven of falsehood and truth, Where hidden motive behind kind eyes lies, And fleeting passions betray youthful ruth. We seek connection, yet often despise, The very closeness that blossoms in youth. Our hearts are a maze, where reason negates The primal urges that demand our fates. We build our empires on lies and on sand, And chase the fleeting shadows of acclaim, While wisdom's quiet cries softly hand The simple kindness to extinguish shame. With jaundiced eyes, we judge men in the land, And fan the flames of envy's burning game. Yet in our solitude, our mind moans, For love's embrace to quell the flaming zones. The paradox of self, a constant strife, Between the noble and the base desire, We cling to moments, the fragments of life, And fear the darkness of the funeral pyre. We seek for meaning in this mortal rife, And dream of heavens reaching ever higher. Yet in our actions, we often chop The very bonds that push our souls nonstop. ©bfa040325