The mirror holds a stranger’s face,
A mask of calm, a practiced grace.
I walk the path I chose to tread,
With ghosts of better dreams ahead.
I say my heart is steel and stone,
That I am king upon this throne,
And that the ache I feel is pride
A hollow place where shadows hide.
Of all the lies a man can tell,
None more dangerous than the one he tells himself.
I swear the fire is just a spark,
That I am unafraid of dark,
That I don't miss the hand I hold,
That I am brave, that I am bold.
But silence is a heavy weight,
And lies become a closing gate.
The truth is waiting in the glass,
Watching all the seasons pass.
I build my walls of painted glass,
And let the honest moments pass,
Ignoring how the light will bend
To hide the brokenness I tend.
For in the dark, the echo rings,
Of all the truth that silence brings
A bitter draught upon the shelf,
The lie I tell unto myself.
