Poetry

Bane of Sheep

written by: Mike Basile

Oh how sweetly you tempt me.
Console me. Control me.
All is well, you assure me.
Am I not privy to your lies?
Here, as we lie,
both together
and to ourselves?
All of your sins, your murders,
they are present, lying here with us.
Tangible. Irrevocable. Uncontrollable.
Oh sweet deceit,
you wear the skin of a thousand sheep.
All of which passed by the illusion of your tongue
and the reality of your bite.
Poisonous, dripping tongue
soaked in malice and despair.
Inviting. Enticing.
Provoking. Disgusting.
Were they any less ignorant than I?
Or any more innocent?
I scorn you, despise you, resent you.
And yet simply utter the words from your lips,
and I shall be yours once more.
Forgetting days past.
Remembering only what you desire me to.
For that is your nature,
to seek, to destroy, to erase, and rebuild.
Only bending the metal,
which my soul is now forged from,
to once more be broken.
And still I beg for the words to be spoken,
from the slaughter house that is your mouth,
that will invite me in again.
To stay for the rest of my days,
now matter how few numbered,
forever to be your slave.