Draconian afterbirth clings, soulless feet
mimicking every move, infringing copyright
like counterfeit signature, false in deceit.
Locked in Siamese embrace, shallow and trite,
how I pray for scalpel of darkness to fall,
yet I know its still there in malice and spite,
watching for weaknesses, a chance to enthrall,
to divert my eyes to its negative trance
like hypnotist slumbering me to pious pall.
Cannot lose this ethereal pinned to my stance,
resigned my future to this twisted romance.