I sit with my thoughts here today

Contemplating at the games that people play.

Amazed, confused, terrorized and scared

Nothing seems to make sense 

Or overthinking reach an end. 

 

How it all came to this, I say? 

What do they want with this gruesome play? 

All in all, but all is not fair 

Life is a game of love, hate and despair.

Play as you want 

But mind the opponents 

Rules will be broken

And trash tossed to others. 

 

 What is it with these silent games 

That people play like they’re charades 

For fun, pleasure, high-stakes or traps

Or just to mess around with your mind, perhaps?

 

Different goals, the same approach

Mind games until the target flops. 

One must win and one must lose 

Or may the best team win with its ruse.

 

Either way, the goal is clear: 

Smudge the truth 

Until it disappears. 

Make others believe only what you want

Without even using words 

Like you have a magic wand. 

 

How does one possess 

Such a nasty skill? 

Does it come natural 

Or do you learn by will? 

Do you watch others and learn from them instead? 

Or is it second nature for a soul that’s dead? 

 

Maybe it’s the way 

We think we can obtain 

A certain thing we want 

With an image to mentain. 

 

Imagine all the players 

Are playing a mute game.

Without even speaking

What they want they obtain.

They’re saying more than ever

It’s just that you don’t know

That behind the wall of loud silence

Are the things they do not show.

 

At first it feels like nothing

Like it’s all in your head 

But then you notice something

And start wondering instead.

 You’re asking yourself questions

And looking to explain 

Why you have a weird feeling

 And if there’s something there! 

You haven’t heard a word 

But picked up on a cold glance 

Or maybe you were left puzzled

 By some gesture you cannot explain at once. 

 

Maybe you’ve been spoken to

With all the right words 

But somehow you feel empty

 Of the meaning that they hold. 

 

We call it in many ways 

But you’ve had the feeling for sure

 When someone played with your mind

And left you of your reality unsure. 

 

Silent game – been played on you 

By a master of deceit – 

An award winner in this category, long due. 

A crown for such an artist might seem fit. 

 

No matter how he learned to do that 

One thing matters the most: 

Does he use it for evil, 

To parasite the mind of the host? 

You can play it in defense, 

Use it as a response 

You could’ve been caught up in the game 

And playing it without knowing – which is worse. 

 

Whatever justification we bring to ourselves 

Can be either truth, lie or just ease of the conscience. 

Because we’re so good at 

Lying even to ourselves –

Whatever makes us feel good 

And brings some common sense. 

 

Silent games are much more worse 

Than a worded manipulation course. 

For they leave you in confusion 

The brain struggles as if it had a contusion 

And even if the pieces don’t make sense together 

You still paint the image of another painter. 

Thinking that it’s yours 

While all this time was not 

Because the paintbrush moves 

In sincron with his thought. 

 

Not even the colors 

Are the ones you chose. 

What is this sorcery 

Of thinking the idea was yours? 

 

Deceit we cannot perceive

Lies we cannot hear… 

How crazy must you be 

To entertain your real thought

When the silence is so clear? 

 

Insidious enemy this must be

Invisible to the eye and ear 

For nobody to believe you or see

That you have something 

To fear.