Through Cracked Glasses

I saw the world through glasses cracked,

A lens so warped, the truth was stacked.

What you see here, you might distrust,

For all I tell you’s built on dust.

I walked a path through gardens bright,

Where roses bloomed in endless night.

You’ll hear me say I found a key,

But it was shadows, not for me.

The people here, they wear disguise,

With every smile, a web of lies.

The man who told me tales of gold,

Was just a beggar, truth be told.

I found a house with doors of steel,

Where echoes danced, but none could feel.

The voices whispered, “You are king!”

But I was lost in everything.

The moon, it sang a haunting tune,

I heard it best by light of noon.

And stars that winked were just a game,

Played by the sun, an endless flame.

You see, my story bends and sways,

In ways that twist reality’s ways.

So heed my words, but don’t believe,

For truth and I may just deceive.

My world is skewed, a painted haze,

A labyrinth of untrue maze.

Yet here I am, a guide of sorts,

Through twisted paths and shifting courts.

So when you read of all I’ve said,

Remember—truth is often dead.

For in my tale, the real is lost,

And you’ll pay dearly for the cost.