C` i` r` r` h` o` s` i` s`
The vintage Jeraboam was like ether, an aural fantacide;
Mercurial Mind......irascible to the drumming of its walls;
Time escapes 'tween the threads of numbness and coma;
The Human Liver...labours deep, be it sotted...be it sober,
Yet only by the finest line that crosses Breath with Death.
Ostensibly brain-froze, still your nerves sense the needles;
Elixur potentate....might as well be injected with profofol;
The events, the illusion....that mirage in your Dreamscape-
All pass, as the movement of the Rapid Eye draws closure,
For the Mind not be born to sustain abuse so great as this.
And you awake to find your flesh a deepest shade of ochre.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Added by Poetry Lover
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