The Traitor Within

He’s the traitor within my walls,

Hiding in plain sight for all to see,

Playing his drums loud and proud, A rhythm of his own design.

He plays my tunes for all to hear,

A symphony of secrets revealed, Poured out to an audience of one,

To unearth every note I concealed.

Strumming through my arteries, The lyrics of my soul,

Bruising my veins with the quill of truth,

Until I bled the traitor that’s become my heart, On the strings of his deceitful art.

A lot has changed since I wrote this poem. And I edited some of the lines to correct errors in the original and hopefully improve the flow and cadence as well.

Here's the original post.