You will think I write this of you –
Assuming, words of tender love and grandeur.
You will search, with soul-less eyes – for my proclamation –
My declaration, of you.

Assumptions, I feel, a sign of thoughtless stupidity.
I do no write of you, nor sweetly or of disdain.
You hold no possession on my heart,
Your face is not echoed throughout my soul.

You do not haunt my dreams –
Never were the cause of those horrid, bloodcurdling sleep-screams.
Mistaken they all were, you fell for it too.
The possessing you see was of a different kind –

Have you not seen your soul-less eyes?
Ever ponder what happened that sun-gleamed smile?
There was a possession of the heart – not done by king.
No, no! You are full of such sweetly innocent stupidity!

The spell was cast and darkness simmered –
All from one demonic queen – yes, now cue me.
The roll I played lacked nothing – but a returning thud of my heart.
See I took yours – and placed in under my shoe –
You never touched my heart.