an addictive anagrammatism
lureing me deeper, deeper
I lurch my dead body
into the vapourish cravis
enimity arrouses an equivocatory illusion
repungant, filled with careless
waves of melancholy
there's no hesitation..
He, has blinded me from the truth
an overwhelming compunction
awakens in a lachrymose realisation
i have fallen
like prey to the Hunter
the dark path of addiction
no longer coated
in endless indulgence
He lines his path of destruction
with seductive pleasures
death like nicotine
�ou used my disconsolation
and �our twisted words
to damnate me, into a deeper despondancy
eventually �our deciet
becomes the self-odium,
the knife through my hear�.
Idiopathy has deluded this lachrymal anima in my possesion� the urtication of a rueful en passant, yeilded forth this atrabiliousness which deeply affects ones once galliard, ignorant disposition. One harkens voices from the �hadows� enchantingly lureing; calling� I long to dwell amongst them. Innocence crushed, there remains a vain hope to apostatise. One stands on the Horns of a dilemma: for there is but a mirage of a vain hope- any lucidity to remain existent is aoristic�