Spirits whisper,
Hollowness to fill.
Bitter,
Hypnotizing,
Toxic,
But inviting.
Redundant,
The plight at hand.
Muted,
With every sip.
I yearn to flee,
From ravenous grasps.
But assumption,
Seems saner.
Senses disabled,
Stubbornness triumphant,
Eating at insides,
Sickeningly sweet.
It burns,
Scathing hell’s fire.
No one could help me,
Neither could I.
- Rasui Akira
written on February 13, 2006 – 08:35 PM
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