Robert McAdams

The one who hides in shadows of my mind,
His low voice speaking deep within my head,
Tempts my hands and heart to follow lust,
And then to hatred of my fellow man.
The angel comes before me speaking kind
Soft words to move my heart away from dread,
And builds upon foundations made of trust,
To turn me from the other's secret plan.
The creature from the shadows knows my mind.
He knows the weakest places in my head.
My thoughts of my own angel turn to lust.
The guardian becomes the prey of man.
The angel only had words soft and kind,
The monster all along a subtle plan.