The Chase Cycle

I see her speed,
The way she moves.
The dream she dreams,
No one can sooth.
 
She races and flees
trying to get away.
From the dreaded consequence,
she knew would come one day.
 
She dreams that Death floats to her,
and she screams that it's not her time.
She points at her equally speedy friend,
who is also her partner in crime.
 
"It's her time. Take her!"
She pleads hysterically,
But Death stares in silence,
Waiting,
Watching,
Patiently.
 
Slowly our character,
hesitantly take's the Reaper's clammy, bony, hand.
And she disappears into a darkness,
that no one will ever understand.
 
Her partner now wakes up,
from a cocaine endues slumber.
To find her friend dead,
right beside her.
 
She looks around,
the shabby and horribly dirty room,
and pulls the syringe from her friend's arm,
for her to use.
 
She sticks the needle into her arm
covered with bruises,
From years and years,
of constant drug abuses.
 
The cycle continues,
and now she is the one escaping through a maze,
but just like her friend,
She too ends up in death's cold embrace.