Whether lurking in the shadows of the night.
Or unsheathed by the piercing scrutiny of vigilance.
The traitor’s cloak, is woven with deceitful fibers,
Saturated with disguise and peculiar camouflage.
Most often, undetected by the encircled prey
As it, adeptly advances to foist its might, on the
Unsuspecting for the simple pleasure of ruination
To its pure satisfaction, and sheer macabre delight.
YemilBenjoy Copyright September 2012