The Dark Whisperer

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