You’d think I should know better than to receive gifts from Troy,
For in such treasures lies a hidden rage,
Supposed to lift me high, to make me whole,
Now leaves my soul in ruins, heart in coal.
Its guise was fair, a symbol of good will,
The light that shone, now led me astray,
The hope that once was mine, now all but lost,
By this, my heart, with fire and sword arrayed.
With every breath, I'm pulled into its grasp,
And from the hands of foes, gifts oft do fall,
This curse, this bane, this guileless faced demon,
That leads me to my end, with mocking eyes.
Thus, take heed, my friends, and be aware,
The things we cling to, can be our bane,
The very thing that's meant to set us free,
May be the noose that brings us to our end.
-cosmicbagels.
