Fevered Mind

A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.

***

I can feel my soul rending in overt tears,

As I peruse the Devil’s tempting wares,

What lies upon that yonder shelf?

What is there to feel when you cannot anything else?

What substance beckons my heart to sin?

What might fill this emptiness within?

Parted lips and open blouses,

Writhing bodies of close friend’s spouses,

Cracked bottles and plunging needles,

Satan weasels with well-placed feelers,

Arching spines and listless eyes,

Through smoke-filled glass am I sucked dry,

When you have naught but the abyss to hold,

However can you do what you’re told,

Well meaning intentions twist themselves,

As you deeper into darkness delve,

However can you begin again,

When three nights you’ve spent in the gambler’s den?

Upon this wall now are you pinned,

Welcome to the world of sin.