The poison is running through my soul.
An evil, albeit minor in comparison
pumped through my body
by a magnificent instrument placed by God.
It moves freely throughout me
with the rhythm of its beat.
A symbolic black strand of liquid holding no form,
floating helpless within my veins.
I am unable to control it
and sadly unable to release it.
It is a shapeless strand of life form
often hibernating for longs stretches of time.
giving me some pleasurable relief.
Even if only fleeting.
Then reborn as it re-enters the heart
giving me the spectrum of emotions which ultimately define me.
Ultimately it was gain form and block the passage
of the liquid where it now survives.
Then my heart will cease
and the evil will die.
This was written for The Mag #170