No Saints, No Devils

Being human is just an illusion,

A mask we wear in the circus room.

We are all shades of grey inside,

Some drift toward black, where shadows hide.

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We dance on ropes of borrowed truth,

Chasing echoes of a fading youth.

Smiles are painted across our fears,

Washed away by silent years.

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Every heart conceals a storm,

Behind a calm and practiced form.

We judge the darkness others show,

Yet hide the depths we do not know.

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In mirrors, strangers meet our gaze,

Lost within familiar haze.

The curtain falls, the lights grow dim,

And all that's left is grey within.