Leech Obsession

The guise of my obsession
does coax the wrong impression,
for my session with him passed,
my confessions did not last.

I reaped the bad sower's sorry harvest,
I tore the creater's art and it gashed my guilty chest.

To me he exists a leech,
ravaging my energy,
Tumbles away my old beseech,
and any doubt upon his perjury.