A Symphony of Doubt

In the days of youth, I wore a mask so grand,
A tapestry of self-deceit, I wove with trembling hand,
A sanctuary of lies, where I sought to abide,
Within its walls, my true self, I sought to hide.

I penned a symphony of illusions, a sweet serenade,
Drowning in notes of feigned happiness, I played,
But beneath the surface of my crafted art,
A river of doubts flowed, tearing me apart.

With every "what-if" uttered in my mind,
A new line was etched, an affliction unkind,
Through the tender flesh of my vulnerable soul,
Leaving scars unseen, yet taking their toll.

In the labyrinth of my own fabrication,
I wandered lost, seeking self-preservation,
As doubts coiled like serpents within my heart,
I grappled with truths, trying to tear them apart.

In this dance of shadows and whispered lies,
I stood as a mosaic, a fractured compromise,
A masterpiece of pain, a tapestry of strife,
A canvas painted with the colours of my life.

Upon the shore of silence, I finally found,
A reckoning with truth, with honesty unbound,
No longer confined by the walls I'd built,
I embraced my scars, with courage and guilt.

In the symphony of life, I found my voice,
No longer seduced by deception's noise,
As I bared my soul to the world outside,
I became one with the waves, the silent tide.