~the Hidden Hand~ Poem by E Nigma

I'm vile and disgusting, trust me
Everything I say is a lie
It must be, Just look
Through the mirrored glasses into my eyes

The truth is hard to swallow, isn't it?
Innocence or ignorance?
In a sense you could choke to death
Honestly, don't, you might be missed

If I'm the web weaver of twisted tales
Told so that you follow
The pipers notes from which I stole
Are plans I'll say I borrowed

Just suppose we're juxtaposed
On a lonely road we wander
Heaven knows cause hell unfolds
A world that's torn asunder

So if faith is carved from an axiom
Starved of all its meaning
Then my left hands scarred
Hidden in dark plots like H. Houdini

And if my left hands art forced you to starve
But my right hand feeds you plenty
Then I'm the pain that raised you up
Yes, I'm the truth you don't see