The Man

I heard the man,

whispering in my ear.

His soothing voice

drew me in,

his choice of words

convinced me.

I saw the man

in a mirror;

he was perched

on my shoulder,

his talons held me

in their fierce grip.

I felt the man

touch my soul;

a dirty black spot followed

his every caress.

Pain coursed through

my very core.

I fought the man;

every blow

caused him to laugh.

He fended off

my weakening attack.

I followed the man,

submissively I obeyed.

He led me astray,

every fork in that road

was the wrong one.

I cursed the man,

but he shoved me along;

he forced me to go

where I was too weak

to resist.

My words

had no effect.

I heard the man

whisper.

He spoke of things

too dark to mention.

Yet he made it all seem…

right.

I allowed the man

to keep me alive,

to get me lost,

to give me pain.

It seemed I had

no choice,

no choice but to give him

my soul.

I want it back,

for I hate

the man.