Synaptic pulse, euphoria
Incongruously out of place,
Ebbing streams of happiness
A chemical disgrace,
Catastrophic comeuppances
Ride needles into veins,
That sense of adulation’s
Born from one’s own self-disdain.

Residing symbiotically
But only one will pay,
Recompense grows gradually
Until that fatal day,
A shining, slow epiphany
Reveals terrain ahead,
Two directions left to go
Detained or drugged-up dead!

There is another thoroughfare
Not beaten down in brush,
But rarely contemplated
It demands decisive trust,
From one’s own born abilities
And palpitating heart,
Do you want to live or die?
Now what is left to ask?
09/03/09 ADO