Luscious lips whispering sweet nothings
A soothing voice selling soaring dreams
Warm breath promising heat in the dead of winter
A sharp tongue lamenting on aligned interests
A posturing figure bending thy ear
A sweet soothing voice rivalling that of a nightingale
Like a lullaby it holds you besieged half asleep almost awake
With your will presented on a silver platter
Like a robot you await your instructions
Clutched in a suffocating grip you battle to breathe
As the dark whisperer’s claws tighten around your neck
His actions named by others as \"lady Macbething\"
With your head set to move up and down
Your tongue cut to utter affirmative responses
You occupy a chair at the corner of your soul
As you accept a visit from the dark one,
Romantic and ravaging
Comforting and confronting
Leaving you faded and frail
The dark whisperer colonising and enslaving
A true hostile takeover
Sometimes looming from without
Often emerging from within
Never missing the mission
To manipulate and exploit
Discourage and cast doubt
Scheme and exsanguinate
Bind and stunt
Leaving you worthless and hopeless
With your spirit shredded, to never try again
You lie down to die the worst death of all
The death of spirit while the body lives on