May 30, 2012
By Galen Bush BRONZE, Windsor, Pennsylvania
Galen Bush BRONZE, Windsor, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I creep ever so slowly upon my prey,
Stalking, sneaking, searching
Searching for an opening.
I find my victim.
A young, insecure teen strolls along
Frightened strides carrying him
Away from friends, away from happiness.
So insecure… so perfect.

I approach in a subtle manner
To win him over
To get him on my side
To control him.
At first he is startled
He suspects my intentions.
I comfort him
Assuring him I only mean good
He relaxes slightly, still wary
But willing to give me a chance.
That’s all I need.
I will control him.

Over time I befriend him
Gain his confidence, gain his sanity
Then one day, I strike.

Thunder booms like tribal drums
Pounding with fury
And as the tumult crescendos
The man’s mind is sundered
And is now mine.

He is now brought
To an institution
Where he will spend the rest of his life
Under my control.
This man is but one,
One of the countess victims
I have claimed as my own.
Few ever anticipate me,
None know me fully,
For I am quiet, I am loud,
I prey on the weak, I prey on the proud.
Come with me, and we’ll cross the line,
I am madness, and you will be mine.

The author's comments:
This piece was formed within the forges of the largest volcano, smelted by the hands of one who knows no fear. It was originally written in a language that none but the immortals could read, but was roughly translated to a language you could understand. If one such as you were to lay your eyes on the original piece, you would go mad because of the sheer awesomeness of it. Please enjoy.

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