A thrashing snake hidden in part
guised as friend, devious at heart
A sibling of trust so false
the fangs went deep where armor covered not
It wasn't from wound that he bled out
but poison of the subtle sort
All that remains is the salve
to patch the quilt, the quilt called Trust
Neither a soldier nor a rock
but a slave to the economical clock.
But as slave i can stll feel
and your guilty looks have made me ill
Stricken at heart,
damage worse than steel.
You have made a hypocrite of yourself
but that's what humans are, its no big deal
Again i have to harden my heart
to strike off all intruders,
the sympathiser's card
indulgence makes the soul grow weak
but a love of a different colour never killed nobody.
I knew things could never be the same
not with me spouting rubbish in the heat of the game
With you i dreamt of pleasures unclean,
yet innocent for the release it brings
I'm sorry to say its come to this
though no man is an island
I be no Man it seems.
Well muscled the body construct
but weak in constitution,
jealous at heart
its true that a sad man drives no point
but its a cycle, like every other one
though association brings the peak of fun
Love's a cruel master, the Devil's Son.
