Visions from Within the Mist
Looking outward from within the mist
The world provides a plethora of visions
Some real, some struggling to exist
All seen through darkly clouded prisms
The mind attempts to focus, but to no avail
Reality is but an illusion at best
The human mind too frail
To see, to grasp, to wrest
Life becomes cluttered with fragments of thoughts
And one spirals downward out of control
Each step forward subject to lingering plights
Grabbing, twisting and shredding the soul
How did the spirit get to this place?
Devoid of body. No escape to be seen
Smoke rises from nowhere in an eerie embrace
Suddenly fright is transformed to the serene
One drifts for hours in the grasp of pleasure
No thoughts of body. Only divine spiritual repose
The mind free to explore at its leisure
All things possible for it to compose
As suddenly as serenity arrived it is lost
Replaced by the feeling of rising from the dead
Body reattaching to the spirit at painful cost
The mist clearing. The ache pounding in one’s head
The coldness of the concrete presses against the cheek
Noise crashes into the mind with irresistible force
The alley is deserted as you struggle to speak
There is no one to hear you. There is only the voice of remorse.
The needle and syringe lie inches away
Faces of those long lost from your life appear - and then disappear
The needle holds you totally at bay
Heroin is your master. To its command you must adhere.
Your hands tremble as you tear open the tiny sack
The spoon accepts it and fire beneath it brings melting heat
The needle dips into the bubbling liquid… no turning back
One stroke and the journey back into the mist is complete
©Copyright Charlie Gragg Oct. 19, 2009
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