I enter the room, the smiles are sharp as knives, The words drip sugar, but the rot comes to life. A veil of whispers, a stage drenched in deceit, I'm circling with shadows where the damned meet. The air is thick with poison, Every breath cuts deep tonight. It's carnage in my head, surrounded by pretense, Every laugh is a dagger, every look is the consequence. A slaughterhouse of secrets, a war I didn't seek, Your bloodstained hands grasp throats too weak. They smear their hollow beauty, but the ink begins to run, Their lies crumble in the light of day; they are afraid of the sun. Behind their flimsy masks, I hear the fragile cracks, In this house of smoke, there's no turning back. Every dagger in my spine only makes me colder, Each betrayal scrawled in ink, each cut grows bolder. I wear the weight of ruin; your shame, your struggle, I'll tear off your masks in the dead of night. The air is thick with poison, Every breath cuts deep tonight. It's carnage in my head, surrounded by pretense, Every laugh is a dagger, every look is the consequence. A slaughterhouse of secrets, a war I didn't seek, Your bloodstained hands grasp throats too weak.