B: Rhombus Waits

Rhombus Waits

Trapped, held in the weak-willed
meekness that ties me
preventing any expression of will
lamely accepting others before me.
The only strength, that which ties me
binding me helpless
unable to release my captor
to his own will.
Tables turn and I will wait
biding my time until ?.
I can swamp the weak
meek unselfish soul
to show what he can do.

For now, I am trussed
buried beneath soil over six feet deep
unborn, unkilled, unable to speak
hating my host
a psychopathic parasite
buried under his skin
feeding from his unliving flesh
with vengeance and dominance
my only goals

One day?.
I will emerge
from my warm flesh cocoon
and the meek shall inherit
fuck all.