The Dark Doctor

You lie hopeless in your bed
Sick, feverish and full of dread.
Sweat pours from your aching head
The last road you must now tread.

The only hope for you is now there
His heavy step is on the stair.
His healing you'd not normally dare
Life can be oft times so unfair.

The door opens, he enters the room
An indistinct outline hidden in gloom.
You fear that he will be your doom
But he can make your fading life bloom.

The Dark Doctor leans over to look
He reads your fear like a trembling book.
An icy touch and your temperature's took
Your soul now dangles from his shadowy hook.

He demands that you give your consent
You know what evil is his dark intent.
Over your bed his body is leant
He grins as his mind upon you is bent.

Terrors as you're wracked with doubt
The laws of Good you've chosen to flout.
You hear yourself give up a tortured shout
As the Dark Doctor draws your fever out,

Now you'll live - if living it can be
He owns you - so you'll never be free
You were afraid to die and now you see
To your horror that the Dark Doctor is ME…

© Khalil Goddard 2012