Fallen from joy, the very height of serenity gone

This never-ending nightmare of addictive obsession

Starving for my life, so long now lost

Supping on the tit of back-alley fruits

Ever riding the razor edged brink of this purple darkness

The inexhaustible hunger never dulls, never wanes

Constantly rending and tearing at my soul

Riding this fevered dream wroth beast

Licentious temptation, the siren’s call of old

Death dealing apathy consumes the gray…….

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 19th, 2007

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