nothing i'll tell you is real

Happy noises, heroin smiles,

the chirruping of lunatics;

all of witchery that beguiles:

read on, for these are the tricks

I play on you. You’ve been hexed,

you are glamoured, you’re entranced,

and not in the least perplexed

that you’re so pliable in my hands –

my tool, mere poppet, a toy

to play around with as i please.

See here! In my twisted joy

how i could force you to your knees,

a fusty ragdoll with a word

or dancing like a soul possessed,

compelled, no matter how absurd

my whim, no matter how addressed

in tone or slyness of appeal,

to cavort and prance at my command;

yet nothing i’ll tell you is real,

not where truth isn’t in demand,

nor justice believed in by fools

and hope is sought always in vain;

and by these unbreakable rules

I teach you the value of pain.

Nor begging, nor wheedling will help,

nor through bribery pay to salve:

soon, i’ll leave you, a broken whelp,

forgotten and damned, unabsolved.

And then you will know how it feels

when life is nought but obstruction.

When all’s lost, reality reels,

and you’re tested to destruction.

MP 25424


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