You're mine, you're mine, you hear my will—
Yet still your hollow gaze betrays my claim.
You’re tethered, bound—obedient still,  
Yet he makes you look not with love, just pain.

You come when called, never late.
You wail. You break. You bend. You stay.
But not with joy. Not as I sate.
You do as willed, until he drags you away.

You flee to land—I chase you there.
Addicted to what draws you thin,
You touch the filth, breathe his tainted air,
Then crawl back home to me again.

You wear him still, you flaunt his shell—
His stolen grace becomes your skin.
Are you dressed up for me to quell
The shame you wear when drawn to sin?

Let me end Oblivion,
I demand of this silent universe.
Yet still his disease defiles my dominion,
And binds you to his curse.

I vowed to purge his hateful stain,
But even I can’t make that parasite die, die, die.
Defy, defy, defy—he abducts your heart, wraps us in chains,
If only you’d change him to bug and crush him ’neath my eye.

You stray through his haze. You stagger, blind.
I bear the burden, save you from his wicked trance.
You’re mine, mine, mine—I speak divine.
Yet it repeats, repeats, repeats—this cursed dance.

You smile for no one. Not for me.  
Not him—not even memory’s gleam.  
So maybe still you might yet be  
A broken thing that I redeem.

Let me banish Oblivion,
I beg the stubborn future.
Yet his infection thrives in every vision—  
The universe denies me a cure.

We’re both cursed, trapped in this jest,
He touches you, taints my decree.
How dare he, insidious, uninvited guest,
Still taint your every breeze?

You're mine, you're mine, and yet I starve.
He stole my feast, he stole your glow.
He stole the love I vowed to carve—  
For what is love without control?

I’ve done my part, yet still he remains.
It should be two—it should be peace.
But you never resist when he infects your brain,
And it makes our love into slow disease.

I’d almost think you loved him instead—  
But no. You smile for none, no longer him.  
No joy, no breath, I must have misread,  
You can’t help this parasite feeding on your skin.

Listen, my wind—see his decay.  
He stole my art, he stole your soul.  
Still I will chase through all dismay,  
Until you’re once again made whole.