Parasite
A little snake in sheep's skin,
Whispered concern hissing
Despite seeing this lamb slither
I put my soul in it
Seeing the serpent's wishes grow
I stood there watching the fleece turn to a poisonous glow
Exploited for my efforts
Quelled in silence with my own words
Leeching yet beguile, with no end
That bloodsucking serpent
With a grin on its face
Still with hope of being wrong
I confronted this sheep-snake
Just to hear it bleat carelessly,
"You are just overthinking".
Till I realised I was ensnared
Such a fate stirring with agony
Where did it come from?
Did it walk out of the flutter of those pages
What was this Lovecraftian place?
Left in dark with not a sliver of light
With such a vile and cruel parasite!
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