In the silent passage
Of idle moments
You sank your tentacles
Deeper into the darkness
Of lost purposes
The pursuit of fleeting
pleasures
You became but a master
Voluntarily you surrendered
To the abyss of vanity
Drank from septic wells
In the allure of dark testaments
You over-indulged
But now,
The crocodiles are singing
Celebrating
Your premature return
To the woods of vanity
Will the aroma of
Burning flesh
Tickle you to numb
Insanity?
Or will you, like they,
Just once more,
Swing to the rhythmic
Crescendo of fatal ecstasy?
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