Paths forked into valves,
Mind split into halves;
Oscillating between the sides,
Seeing Jekyll and smiles;
Seeing Hyde and knives,
His heartless chest, connives.
Never been so cold,
Till his soul was sold;
But I wasn't told,
How this would unfold.
I wasn't trapped,
Until my being was hostaged.
Strangely marred, this reality,
Such a tragic piece of beauty;
Teasing the pain away,
Lifting my spirits gently;
To walk from the astray,
The path he shall deny.
Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar
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