Sunday, November 13, 2005

The Disease - dedicated to all sufferers

One sip, it takes no more. 
One taste, it forces wide the door. 
One contact, feel your heart to soar. 
One more, and recklessly adore. 
 
Each wild moment, bold deceit. 
Each euphoric high, a cheat. 
Each fresh shot you'll take it neat. 
Each loose passion, filled with heat. 
 
It's the meaning to your life. 
It's a blade, serated knife. 
It's the fire of joy and strife. 
It's more dear than man to wife. 

This madness is a daemon cursed. 
This obsession, raging thirst. 
This shattered dam, with deluge burst. 
This love, of evils is the worst.

No comments: