Transmogrification

the evil one seems so nice,
his putrid lips curled into a smile
of joy, his lying tongue
urging us to slow down,
enjoy the miles
we travel as we
roll the dice.

our pleasure seems assured,
he insists, our
futures deemed near perfect,
and he clasps
our necks and purrs.

but his body belies,.
the monster thoughts below,
his den of dreams
all nightmares,
his talk of freedom
so confining.

capturing children, he controls
their minds, bodies and souls;
no cloven feet revealed
for now, but in the evening hours,
his mask will slip
and out will spill
saliva and burnt blisters
so quick to attach
to breasts so pure.