“I will get you,” he said.
That little, unassuming voice in your head.
The one that can play both Devil or Squire
While whispering humbly, “I serve you, Sire.”
He stalks like a tiger,
He snakes through the mind,
No locked doors exist –
No key he won’t find.
He will play any Switch like no one before
Head master of tricks, gatekeeper of lore.
One moment your lover, the next your friend;
Underneath it – self-serving – right to the end.
But in that is His game;
His mystery undone.
In His endless bag of tricks, we find…
Destruction his motive, Power his aim,
Killing all parts who don’t feel the same;
We uncover in Him the truly insane –
For Power in death is paradoxical gain.
Shape-shifter and Trickster
Magician of mind
Quick – see the trick!
Or die trapped by His bind.