To learn that the friendly nudge was an assassination attempt,
To find that those hours of conversation were information gathering for downfall,
What does it taste like to be decieved?
Like blood, and all that blood entails.
To hear that all those helping hands were fists,
To feel the two-year long bond dissolve, it was never there,
The hands of the memories shake and faulter,
yet the emotion drives it.
To discover that you mislead me of truth,