Pandora

I read the acid words you'd scribbled on the paper,
Those venomous ramblings full of poetic hatred,
It drew blood from my pores just reading the content,
Lacerating my flesh with every syllable I read.

All you ever wanted to do was paint my portrait,
With the angry eyes of a madman gone insane,
In the colors of blood and gore, amid deep blue shadows,
It was your way of proportioning the blame.

You blamed me for each and every one of your failures,
As you dragged me around trying to make a name for yourself,
But I never fitted in with your idea of what's elite,
And you spat your scorn at me to hold me in control.

And I followed you around like a slave to his mistress,
Trying my damnedest to make a success of your life,
While mine crumbled under the weight of your humility,
It was me whom you sat beneath Democles dangling knife.

I took all the risks while you took all the credit,
You veiled me in the shadows while you shone in your gold,
You fed me scraps of paper with your orders to kill,
No nemesis was allowed to see your blackened soul.

And I protected your skeletons in a locked up closet,
Your own Pandora's box of mystical mayhem,
Hidden from the prying eyes of the media tabloids,
You shone through your vanity while you lived the dream.

It was I who put you there and it is I who'll bring you down,
You forget I still hold the key in my hand,
With Democles dagger, I'll reap the blood from your heart,
To expose it's blackness for the world to understand.

I'll expose the debauchery of your self content orgies,
Your vanity's party amid your self illusion,
Your selfish discord for your cavalcade of concubines,
To whom you don't even offer an allusion.

Die then, for your sins, my sweet Pandora,
May Democles dagger fall deep and swift,
And may you fall victim to your own paranoia,
And may you sink from your ego until there's nothing left.