Not all beds are made to rest.
Some are covered with shards of glass,
Beautiful, yes, but deadly beneath—
A fleeting joy that turns to pain,
A trap designed to snare the naive.

Not every animal is a friend.
It may seem loyal, eager, kind,
But behind the mask of trust, it waits—
A silent predator, concealed in care.
Your mind deceives you, calls it a pet,
Till it strikes, and you're its prey.

A meaningless world we're trapped within,
Where truth wears the mask of lies.
A secret whispered to just one ear,
Becomes the gossip of a thousand fools.
Who to trust? A riddle...