Knife

I argue, for the sake of argument
For the fine balance of confusion
And opinion; for chaos, dilemma,
Patterns, ruling in guise of nostalgia.

I kill, amputate and burn your stories
And walk alone through the labyrinth
Of hollow sockets on forsaken skulls
I am destiny, sniffing on hidden scars.

Seldom I wake up in him, yours truly
I am the thorn he needs, to remove
All other thorns stinging him otherwise;
Me, him; him, me : a knife in disguise!