I would know when a voice would break
Often from hints of words
In text or voice
I manifest my malice
To whitewash my intentions
Of selfish pleasures
Now I know what breaks who
I willfully rush in
With reckless abandonment
Who, what, why
Are often the least of the questions
Let alone an after thought.
Frail humans
Tainted by falsehood of emotions
And I am but one different
A demon of manipulative magic
Whispering sweetness
Leaving a soul bleed
Brandishing them with agony
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