Fall From Grace
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Rabid desires, blamed on testosterone;
vicious thoughts, in games of oneupmanship,
fuelling passions, turning heart to stone,
remorselessly tighten on soul their grip,
oblivious to tears that slowly drip.
The face in the mirror loses lustre,
resembling now, a demonic creature,
deadened to soft, subtle voice of conscience,
man of the world, in truth a predator,
forging with evil, shaky alliance.
02-May-2021
Copyright © Unseeking Seeker | Year Posted 2021
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