The Dark Lord Poem by Cabaline xxx

The Dark Lord,
weaves his way through a crowd,
and brings himself to the forefront my sight,
and my mind.
I drag my eyes from his face,
for I know that to look upon it,
and gaze with such respect and admiration,
will do me no good.
My attention is forcefully diverted,
to a more innocent occupation.
Each laugh is daring,
for I fear to offend you with my betrayal.
Sometimes I bat my eyelashes,
at some silly boy, to see if it stabs you,
it stabs me to see that you remain indifferent.
But do you really?
The Dark Lord hides many thoughts,
if they are not what is expected of him.
He wears a mask. The deceiver!
How does he expect me,
to abandon my mask completely,
when he depends on his.
The Dark Lord.
The Great Pretender.
The Dark Lord.
The centre of my attention.
The Dark Lord,
My Dark Lord?