Resistance

At times of trouble,

I do not hold back.

Whenever a fear comes in,

An attack,

From my head,

Is propelled forward,

Towards the enemy.

I pull myself away into

My own thoughts,

And let my power,

Or whatever magic rests within,

To use itself,

Onto those and that

Which it aims to devour.

I gaze at myself in the mirror,

And only grin at how inconquerable I am.

For a brief moment, no guilt,

No shame,

Nor remorse,

Enslave that which I feel by playing with resistance.

I find it exalting, enchanting, enticing...

Sure, why not?

Who am I?

I ask.

I dare not untie that knot.

I conceal my evils in a box,

For which all keys are spread across,

And all secrets stay lost.

I intend to keep it this way,

I like having my power to myself.

No true deviousness onto those who do me wrong.

I try to upkeep my character and write her in a song.

Maybe she wasn't fortunate,

But an illusion, she was not.

She kept her guard up,

Away from dangers and such.

No one asked her why she did it.

But she did it too harshly and too much.