Junk Blues 1: The Cycle of Nothingness
From the first, generally, things go to its end
From the first to the last, that’s the trend
But what if there’s no ending point
No stopping even at gunpoint
And you are lost in a cycle of nothingness
Drown in self-pity
Get down on a knee
Or both
And loath
And curse
The whole world in a verse
And get further lost in a cycle of nothingness
But not before getting a hit
Before, agreeing to senses, the things fit
Or else it does not matter
What’s his or her, is better
And keep getting lost in a cycle of nothingness
From the first hit to the latest
Thence the next to the deadest
Ephedrine-laced nightmares
Confusion scales the stair
At the speed of (5α,6α)-7,8-didehydro-4,
5-epoxy-17-methylmorphinan-3, 6-diol diacetate
And get lost in a cycle of nothingness
Gotta be some hope, losing in science
Unfortunately it’s not, if not for the pleasance
Of a mercilessly short duration
Of a false notion
Everything will get better somehow
As long as one shot is available then and now
And always get lost in a cycle of nothingness
And the starting point has faded
When the only thing that counts is the next shot
And ceaselessly, get lost and then disappear into a cycle of nothingness.
Diamorphine (Wikimedia Commons) |
Read: The Centre of Attention and the Masters of Puppets
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