The syringe sits gleaming, beckoning
Filled with thoughts of escape
To a land far away
Never mind the hook behind the intrigue
Or the challenge ever increasing
Just be one with the story.
Come, claim your place, its free.
I plunged it deep into my veins
A roguish grin forming as I’m carried away
To this land far away.
My blood racing with the thought,
of another kill, another hunt, another chase.
Going farther than I want to go,
Keeping me longer than I want to stay.
Taking more than I have to give,
The reward, in this you will live.
Yet each day I die a little,
Craving another dose, another thrill.
Rip the needle from my flesh,
Taste the bile of regret,
Crushed remains beneath my boot,
This day, I choose,
To find release,
Refuse to be enslaved,
I will be free.
Also published on Medium.