Under poison of narcotic,
I feel my mind corrupting.
Courage and honesty, crumbling.
An ivory tower of formulae and syllogism,
To keep love and pain locked outside.
Tucked away into silence and artificial security,
There is just this one moment in which illusion justifies itself.
I wake to the Devil, who offers me a smile and a cup of tea.
And he says, “That’s right. I’ll have to be going along now.
But just let me know if you need anything. And remember:
Everything is your own free choice.”
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