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Siren's Song

Heroin is naught but a sirens song to me

singing of warm, forgetful peace –

so false and fleeting,

self-induced living death,

the Jones ever creeping.

Til none is left but a wretch,

shadow chasing.

A nightmare of my own contriving,

ever convinced of her beauty but never realizing –

it was just her song in my head

and not worth dying for.
Written by 64Arts
Published
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