The Vilest Treason...

Happy I'd done what I should,
Stayed that course of good,
I did have a reason to smile,
If only for a very short while.

Not far away was he stood,
A smirk lurking under the hood,
It was coldly evil, was his grin,
Who was this arch agent of sin?

I soon zeroed in on his gait,
He scuffed, didn't walk straight;
His right-hand fingers did tot,
He mumbled, lips not moving a lot.

Him, I felt I did very well know,
But a name my mind  failed to tow;
He stopped, turned, and posed,
Surprisingly, his arms were closed.

It seemed I was being played,
He, my rival, formidably staid;
But, what was the whole aim?
What were the rules of this game?

Then, it seemed he had won,
Whatever it was that he'd done;
He pranced, and without a care,
Jubilantly, his identity he did bare.

I remembered what I'd forgot,
I wasn't what I had thought;
He was me, and I was him,
Guided by a most evil maxim.

I'd pulled off the vilest treason,
Feigned love to maim her reason,
And to me, she'd gifted her heart,
As I clinically essayed a crafty part.