The Narcissist

There he stood, in the shadows
his smile broad as he shoulders no self doubt in the deeds that he had dealt upon others weakened by his debauched venom, his tongue as sharp as his cane, he did not care how many hearts he would tare apart,
how many lives he would ruin as long his needs, his wants and his pleasures where satisfied by those he chose oh how they thought they where the ones one after another... then left on the heap to decompose so there hearts would fill with darkness and hate while he skipped along and played a merry with another
his mechanical heart never tired nor wept, only drove the fear of those he led astray want him more and more and he knew to well how to play the game just right, he burnt many bridges caused so much pain making them spiral out of control, oh how they longed to feel alive …
so there he stands in the shadows waiting to shatter the heart of another and another but for him to be praised the only interest admiration is of Himself

and he continues on... not learning from his pitiful mistakes
Him the Narcissist

◄ So Close

Silent Tones Of Unearthly Souls ►

Comments

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poemagraphic

Wed 1st Apr 2020 15:32

Sounds like most men!

Said Po with tongue in cheek. (What a waste of a tongue)
Po

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