False Prophet

He had her transfixed by the way he spoke-
The elegance,
the confidence that escaped his lips
was nothing like anything
she had ever heard.

She was enchanted by his knowledge,
bewitched by his words.
When his mouth was poised, ready to speak,
she knew as his voice echoed through her mind,
her body would grow weak.

Her heart would beat
with the pulse of his tongue
as his thoughts flowed out
and struck her soul.
But as it pierced and prodded
deep into her core, she would begin to doubt
if his act of sanctity was only a chore.
Was he a prophet?
Or simply corrupt?

Were the words he spoke
intended for beauty?
Or had she mistook
the propriety for cruelty?

As his voice resonated in her ears,
she couldn’t escape the sounds.
The sounds of his wicked words
uttered by that twisted tongue
declared his deplorable discourse
disguised by false diety.

But he regarded himself as the truth
and hid behind the lies.
And when she listened closely
she could hear that his words
were nothing but a guise.

The beautiful language
he seemed to whisper directly to her heart
was the weapon he chose
to tear the world apart.