A Poem and Something Not Quite

(Both written originally on April 6th.)

Lords of illusion
Entangled in shadow.
Some are back from the dead
Disturbing the trampled leaves of tomorrow.

In their wake
They reveal your strings.
Upon their command, you quake,
Fearing what their wrath brings.

The gods of yesterday,
They are vengeful and cold.
No one can match
The power of centuries old.

                                              Better do what you're told.

***

If you want to break the curse

You must first pay what is due.
Lest the darkest of follies and fancies will pursue.

What is this thing in your head?
It twists.  It turns.  It stabs.
Whilst invoking purest dread.

Sad thing is,
(and you know it's true...)

Here I am,
Still telling you.

Aw, do we need the answer?
What an incomprehensible surprise.

Alas, it is why you are in defeat, I surmise.

What is that pain in your spine?

(I think you're aware.)

It's made of two parts and grows on the vine.
Its taste does not compare.