Onyx Parodoxical

In your glory, you weave magical webs Webs of fantasy, deceit, falsehood and half truths Your countenance saintly, the epitome of purity Your pleasing form deceives many Voluptuous curves, jutting peaks, lush valleys Tresses that flow like fragrant cascading water Skin so soft, the colour of virgin honey In the depths of your soul there darkness dwells As you scheme, your eyes gleam, mental gears turning You unleash your masterpiece of destruction Machinations of chaos, unbridled anarchy Shattered lives and spirits rent asunder, you have left To you it as all a game, a game whose rules you set A game at which you are peerless I see through your veil….I will not play your game You have met your match….Checkmate! Game Over