Filled with anger we show only our brighter sides, the diamond spinning in turn of foolish childishness, who are you to push me around the corner? Towards the next bend?!
I need it not.
His eyes are blackness themselves, they reflect no soul, no spirit, and they reveal no underlying emotions, for there are none. There are no facets to this being, the diamond is cut, yes, but it is done in a manner of which will provide you only ever with a mirror.
For to look into his eyes depicts the beginning of a mad rushing descent into emptiness, devouring heart and soul, allow for it to entangle you, embrace you, drag you into the depths of his being. This darkness is warm, sentient, it cradles you close, ever closer, ever deeper into madness, the darkness is endless, a pit without a bottom, a drop that never ends, weightlessly flying around in a sea of nothing.
An abominable void is all he offers, a curt smile, charming, for that is he, ever adapting to who you are, what you are, what you desire and request, consciously and subconsciously, beckoning, adapting to your every wish. You dance right, he will slant left, a perfect tango, swirling you around with mad promises of love and otherwise desired ambitions.
Jealousy, for that is what he is as well, jealous, ever so jealous of your beating heart, your multi-facetted world that leaves him alone in the dark. This is why he pulls you closer, the shadows beckoning, enticing you to come play with it, for loneliness is its part.
"Come, come dance, come play, we have all that you desire and more."
The human heart, feeble minded as it is, loves to watch itself in the mirrors that pool in his eyes, his face is invisible, but their imagination shall fill the gap. Alongside that desire is a need, a want to believe. He abused it, the cloaks and shadows shimmer and wait, lurk, quietly, patiently. A grin taints his features, pulls them beyond human recognition, sharp teeth hide behind the feeble excuse he has, the darkness upholding the perfect two-way mirror. The light would shed truth upon him, but he makes sure he is never caught, the shadows are his life, his allies, his world.
And such you dance, hold his hands, admire his perfect features, clutch cold hands around the warm body. It was everything you hoped for it to be and more, for the imagination is without limits, unaware, unnoticed, his perfect fašade continues, the ultimate deception drawing in your soul. And as his hands pull you in, ever closer, dancing ever tighter, coiling around your heart, with pride, joy, and your death is in his hands.
You never noticed.
He played the game, perfectly.
The darkness you see, frees your memory.
And after a while, it is all you know, all you need and yet.
You find yourself alone, jealous of those that carry the multiple facets of the human emotion.
After a while you search, for that heartbeat, that other warmth, dance that perfect dance, caught in an everlasting cycle.