He never touched a wire or wrote a line of code, He hacked the human spirit with syllables he sowed. No circuits blinked beneath his steady, watchful stare, Just vowels slipped like viruses and nested unaware. He studied all their fractures, every bruise and seam, Then slipped inside their thoughts as if he were a dream. A whisper here, a question there, a carefully planted doubt, He’d rearrange their inner world from the inside out. He fed them truths in fragments, laced with hidden knives, Convincing them his leash was how they lived their lives. He mapped the fault lines of their fears with almost tender art, Then pressed upon the softest codes embedded in the heart. With honeyed tones and borrowed grief he mirrored what they lacked, Becoming every savior figure trauma had abstracted. He called it cultivation, evolution of the mind, But left a trail of hollowed shells and sanity behind. Each conquered will became a rung beneath his climbing feet, Their broken boundaries the mortar of his private seat. He harvested their confidence to graft onto his own, While gardens full of stolen light around his shadow grew. A phrase could bend a memory, a pause could twist a choice, He’d overwrite their conscience with the cadence of his voice. They thought the thoughts were native, that the urges were their own, Not knowing foreign roots had in their psyche grown. He pruned away resistance with a flattering disguise, Then rewired their loyalties before their doubting eyes. He spoke of self-improvement, of shedding lesser skin, While siphoning their essence like a sacrament of sin. For every mind he mastered, his reflection sharpened bright, Fed by dimming lanterns that he’d quietly deprived of light. He never spilled a drop of blood or left a visible scar, Yet funerals were held inside the people that they were. And when they finally noticed that their thoughts were rearranged, He’d already moved onward, improved, and strangely changed. A man who hacked with metaphors and parasitic art, Building towers out of ruins where he once unstitched a heart.
