I'll Never Succumb To His Charm...

(my one and only villanelle)

I’ll never succumb to his charm,
Though filled with a feeling of dread.
He will not crush me in his palm.

A sense of serenity. Calm,
Once engulfed my innocent head.
I’ll never succumb to his charm.

His heart is of muscular balm,
Sculpted from a barrel of lead.
He will not crush me in his palm.

Dead, is his heart, “should I embalm?”
I am a bird tied to his thread.
I’ll never succumb to his charm.

“Would he ever do me grave harm?”,
I wonder as I lie in bed.
He will not crush me in his palm.

He grasps my throat with a firm arm,
His eyes swept with a gust of red.
I’ll never succumb to his charm,
He will not crush me in his palm.