Words beyond me envisioned I was a writer,

Then I saw terror and scheming in your lonely glance.

You wish to live as a poison to many forever,

And now I was your grappling chance.

You clawed your way inside me by the sinister scratching,

Shot the jet black ink in through my paper-like veins.

Make sure that would write of your shallow greatness,

Until through your manipulation I drove myself insane.

The world thinks that you are the hero,

Like in the books I used to read.

The kind of man surely everyone needs.

It was too late when you noticed,

One mistake that you had made.

That a warrior might fight with an armed sword,

But the pen is the ultimate weapon and blade for a true writer.

You can’t just tear apart my world,

And then expect a loving rhyme.

Long ago you said these words like sharp weapons,

“you’re so weak for your freedom shall never be given to you in a lifetime.”

And now I shall trap you ink handcuffs,

Lock you behind my written bars.

And now your wish is granted as you’ll finally live forever,

As the monster you are.