There’s a man called H, cloaked in night,
Both my partner and shadowed delight.
He’s my amigo, my “curse”,
Though I fight him, I lose every fight.

In his grasp, I am bound, though I try,
To escape from the grip of his eye.
I build walls to defend,
In his darkness, my courage runs dry.

I wonder what thoughts linger in his gaze,  
As he offers me two paths to amaze.  
The last, a blade with two tongues of strife,  
Does he seek my fear, or sharpen my life?

He’ll return next weeks, seeking my choice,
Asking which path calls to my voice.
He stands by my side, no one else near,
Not his family, nor mine, just us here.