I see faces dither in and out of view
I can see them plotting my murder
In between hushed tones and jubilant laughter,
I can feel the dagger gently fusing with my spine

Those beside me warn of artificial paranoia
Their rendering of the situation yields a different mirage
When forced to digress to their vision demerit,
I can see their faces unveil into my to be murderers’

Once the scenario is amply spun into distortion,
My conviction deepens inward
This festering lesion of soldering doubt,
Is just a sheath for impending dagger thrust

Features slip off their faces, grinning skulls remain
No silver tongues, only deceits resonate through teeth
Light turns to ink, petrified, facing forwards, half asleep
Hunchback hilt, blood spilt, vindicated stab in the dark


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