Superman

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I am playing the bad guy.
I was your origin story, and she was your happily ever after,
Sitting in two-dimensional pages,
Not recognizing you without disguises.
Masks are accessories I often sport,
While she lays bare, ignorant of facades.
A constant in your life has been my demonization.
Can you really blame me for your casualties?
Or do you crave chaos and black magic?
Smoke and mirrors do not erase consequences.
I too am a magician capable of deception.
I may be your nemesis,
As well as her confidant,
Learning to lead double lives
And disappearing behind the trap doors.
Dark alleys work as our confessional,
Where villains and superheroes have hazy definitions.
Causing catastrophes, yourself,
She believes you are an angel for being the one to fix them,
Though religious, you are not.
Saints and sinners hold no value in your eyes,
And morality is that of outdated text.
You illustrate comics yourself,
Because victors write history.
No hero is complete without a foe,
So, you keep me alive until your next publication.
Which begs the question,
Are you truly her hero?

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