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![Image for the poem Scourge of the elixir](/images/uploads/poemimages/517350.jpg?1721222950)
Scourge of the elixir
The scourge of the elixir
The potion of fate
The purge of the fixer
seven seconds too late
Minute by minute
And hour by hour
The salve to be swindled
From the seeds of a flower
Chasing the dragon
from his chalice, we sip
Unsheathing the needle
In search of the trip
The guise of the wired
The skin of their thrones
Their emotions misfire
To cast vie to their bones
Farewell, my reality
Force my mind to a place
Where I’ve really got nothing
In that world there to face
Life’s imperfect dissection
With no guidance to steer it
Just another injection
To imprison my spirit
The potion of fate
The purge of the fixer
seven seconds too late
Minute by minute
And hour by hour
The salve to be swindled
From the seeds of a flower
Chasing the dragon
from his chalice, we sip
Unsheathing the needle
In search of the trip
The guise of the wired
The skin of their thrones
Their emotions misfire
To cast vie to their bones
Farewell, my reality
Force my mind to a place
Where I’ve really got nothing
In that world there to face
Life’s imperfect dissection
With no guidance to steer it
Just another injection
To imprison my spirit
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