Never-ending Breath of December

The Author

They took control of my hand.

Oh, how the paper turned to gold

in their eyes.

But my, 

my hand, my mind,

raped of power

that is no longer mine.

The pen, my, they saw

jules bleed.

Say what they might,

what they will.

My eyes pulled from my head,

I call them greed.

How am I to speak my useless words

when they haven stolen my tongue?

Spirits reside in my brain

and force their words

through my body.

I shake and shiver,

but I only become colder.

These are the monsters

that control minds of

The Authors.