ENTHRALLED

Where once stood my friend

Who’d stand by me to very end

Now is a stranger, different

Cold and dead but sentient.

Making all your silent choices

Listening to those silent voices

In your head and all around

Where foolishness and gab abound.

You dig yourself a grave

That’s made from Blind, and you a slave

And push yourself away from me

One of few who’d set you free.

Leave her; she’s not for you

And with her find you yourself untrue,

But still you’re falling into her shadow.

I’m scared, you can’t leave my rooted little willow.