Twisted Tales

Twisted Tales
Twisted tales, where the laughter dies,Behind the veil,
the truth now lies.Every rhyme, a venomous guise,Under the moon’s cold,
silver skies.

The crooked man hums a fractured tune,
his stride a ghostly rhyme,Bo Peep mourns under a blood-red moon,
for sheep lost beyond time.The spider weaves her endless snare,
her web a mirrored ache,And every soul
that lingers there is just a thread to break.

In this world where dreams betray,
the light will never shine.Through tangled rhymes, come what may,
you’ll walk the crooked line.