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Is it really that hard for you to utter a few words

Words that aren't as skin pricking and eerie as ever

Words that may for once comfort a lonely soul

So that it may not wander off alone into the depths of the unknown

Is it too much to ask for you to smile

Not the sly smirk you make when you've got your criminal way

But the honey dipped softness one usually shows another in places of fondness and gentle appreciation

I can't fathom a more vile way to manipulate and terrorise a young mind

It's impossible to even consider a possibility

For you've shown the darkest of colours any man could possess

A colour that's devoid of any ounce of merriment

The vein on your large forehead

The one that looks as if it has a mind of its own

Does it tell you what to do, do you do what it asks?

Or is it just another puppet you've captured to drain away its amber-toned glow

Is it not enough for you

Not enough preying on the inquisitive

A small part of me wishes that the vein really is controlling you

A hopeful part, the one that tries to see the best in hearts - good or rotten

Because an apple gone bad, still has its rich redness deep within the black

And if there is any spark inside your corrupted self, I'd like to believe that it could be brought back to overpower your masquerade

Until I find your answers, I think,

I won't let you draw out another cry

Though, I'm afraid I'm quite losing time

So if this is it, if this is my last goodbye,

God bless your inner glimmering soul, for it must bear the torture and vicious screams that your poisonous blade would rip out, never knowing when to stop.

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