I am a pile of leaves waiting to be affected by the winds of time;
Scared of what the future holds.
I lay here calm and collected, my emotions trapped inside;
Bursting at the seems, my sanity is wavering.
I have the voices of my conscience to guide me;
My tour guide is corrupt.
A mad man trapped behind the white picket fence.
A man full of rage.
I look at my reflection and see myself slowly changing;
The terrifying man has claimed me.
I am his, and he is mine.
We are one.