Sadistic Stasis

Where only wildflowers grow,
he ponders in confusion with
excuses that don’t make sense,
not speaking in an honest fashion,
but responding with phrases that grab,
only lies camouflaged, incognito.

Years will pass, but he’ll always stay
shaded by the secrets in which he resides,
casting stones in misfortune’s lyric,
and anchored in an empty arena,
never realizing that his faults have been
tormenting enough to penetrate the heart.

Bound inside a demented world, where a jab
exists only in my own delusional psyche
makes him the evil that haunts my nightly dream,
entering my lungs to suffocate the air I breathe,
needling my mind with his words of pestilent poison.