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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Drama · #1720797
When the lack of a fix takes its toll, nothing but madness may set into one's mind...
I can feel it slipping away,
This thing that keeps me sane. 
As the moon passes the day,
In desperate need of Wolfsbane.

Can you hear what I hear...? 
Madness knocking on my door. 
Tee hee, giggle snort, smells like a sip o' beer, 
But soon I'll be passed out on the floor.
 
Can you see what I see...? 
The cleverness filling over. 
I think I know what I should be,
The intoxication spilling sober. 

I can feel this pulsation,
This beat of my heart. 
I can sense this sensation,
Like an orgasm about to start. 

Can you feel what I feel...? 
An order of chaos at peace. 
Yin yang, an eternal spinning balanced wheel. 
Darkness' power, your worry least. 

Can you smell what I smell...? 
The burns scorching your flesh,
In this ugly burning hell! 
The gore soon creates the most unbearable mess...

The power is a milling rover,
Its strength inwrought. 
The force a light breeze on unwilling clover,
It's battling inertia well fought.

Can you taste what I taste...? 
Oh, the gloriful victory! 
Quick, we must celebrate post-haste! 
Dine on a banquet set in hickory! 

Can you sense what I sense...? 
This is my sanity slipping away! 
It's running across a pasture, climbing over a fence;
Off to see another day! 

Goodbye, sweet sane me,
I'll see you next year!
So long, sweet crane bee,
I'll be sure to never fear!!
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