You rip it out of my mouth with your snatching fingers.
You subject me to a mute witness
Cursed to wander the world unable to speak
Or voice my soul.
Unable to emanate my gifts.
You are wicked.
But you hide behind a veil of greatness
Like the great and powerful Oz behind his emerald curtain.
You to are powerful
But wicked to the core.
You hover over all the glowing lights of the lovers.
You dance on the heads of the artists.
Guarding them from those like me
Who ache and yearn for greatness too.
"Oh no you don't"
You sing to me like a deranged pixie.
"You can't have such glory".
You are a siren.
Enticing but cruel.
You sing your song to me
All day and night.
Until I go deaf.
Or until I dare to take a knife
And cut out your spiteful tongue.
Never trust a cat that's cornered.