In My Hand.

Slippery of desires,
A sadist in heart,
Verily a golden apple you dangle,
in front of my youthful eyes,
warily i approach it,
for i have seen you play,
and you delight in my plight,
for just as my hands almost touch them,
they vanish from my view,
and a predicament swallows me:
chastise myself or not?

I confess my heart is set,
on the golden apple you dangle,
and i realize your treachery knows no bounds,
the very hand that i extend,
you will twist and break,
cursed will i be if i let you go.

A more wicked mind rules you at times,
and you dress up the apple in unpleasant garb,
it is a test, the most dreaded test,
testing the loyalty of a mortal like me.

My heart may rebel,
my body broken,
yet my eyes are set,
on the golden apple, which i will soon rest,
In My Hand.