Somewhere out there exists a voice,

Distinctive and unique as yours,

Which shuns the norms of rise and fall

And spits out harsh staccato roars.

 

Though issued from another place,

It soon seeps through inside your skin,

And, once you bolt too late the doors,

Invades your conscience from within.

 

At first you notice minor traits:

You say things that you do not mean,

You run down allies and praise foes

And sanction dirty deals unseen.

 

You feel the warnings from your heart,

As you sup from a bitter dish.

Your senses, mined down to a husk,

No longer bend to your own wish.

 

The occupier whispers low,

In softer tones than you first heard,

But its control is absolute,

Your last defiant stand absurd.

 

One day you realise you have changed;

This process cannot be reversed.

The voice will chase away your friends;

Your former self departs by hearse.