|picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Purple-Poison-29200182|
The demon still hovers on billboards, in stores,
in people around me, in musical chords,
he’s built a huge stage with gold as his wares
for those to please enter his devious snares.
And though his smooth voice, now familiar to me,
can’t lead me to mischief, the ultimate deed,
his power’s around me, each hour, each day,
taunting and tempting his pleasurable ways.
From him I can’t hide, can’t pretend he’s not there,
I’d lie if I said that I no longer care,
for seven long years he has been in my wake,
yet still I keep hov’ring between love and hate.
…as much as I wish for that carefree numb mood,
its pleasure I lived for, with passion pursued,
I can never find it again, I have changed,
it tore me to pieces, we are now estranged.
In support of OcSober - http://www.enca.com/south-africa/ocsober-challenge-can-you-go-month-without-alcohol