Milord
Gone for good!--
with a gleeful screech.
(witch-cry.)
And I do not ache.
One year
of hellfire existence.
The doer
to my dreamer;
no, you're not missed.
Paralyzing
my very being
with your precious "freedom"
and that bitch-mistress
who makes your life a lie.
Mocking my dreams!
I believed I was nothing.
Well, here's *my* cry freedom--
your narrow existence
is mone no longer.
Go! and take
the demon in you
that has yet to appear
though I have
seen him foreshadowed
in your steel-blue eyes.
Those ice-cold eyes.
You love nothing
but yourself.