The Master Cycle
Like a gorilla to his chest you reign down on me
Releasing your pain down on me.
The days of the slave are not of past
Because I feel the whip in every punch you cast.
I do not leave for I fear
You have made your threat very clear.
I must obey, I must not defy
simply, I must not speak my mind.
For if I think you will surely see,
The hatred you hold is not for me.
You can pretend I have no clue
Of the darkness that lurks inside of you.
Deep within a stunted seed,
So malnourished it seeks to feed
Upon me you prey, not for I am weak
But because an honest word is all I speak.
You find me a opponent to be taught
So you spin a web of lies in which I will be caught.
You unleash your demon who awaits his favorite game
Of violently ravishing my body and slandering my name.
A sad reality that I often face,
You see, you are the type to try to bend that which cannot break.
Deep in heart, I pity your boyish ways.
I pray for the day into a man you will change.
Until then you use me bare
and will move on to find another as if I was never there.
You do not feel guilt nor shame,
The master of his favorite game.
Except, you lose each time I heal
Because foolish boy, that is the difference between
fake and real.
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