Poem about drug useage

--------damn that post-poetry reading rymeing that get stuck in your head, so your thinking in rymes and it won’t let you sleep untill your ready to commit suicide to relax. Thats what happened in this case.--------------------

Elicit Substance

Deeply I lay aslumber, the spell of sleep I was under
Where upon I heard the thunder of a stranger crossing my floor
Softly her footsteps were tapping - that lie of sleep produced my napping
Still her sharp heels came a tapping, she casting no shadow upon my door.

Regardless of wake or dream never did I have thought to scream
As I lay transfixed by that being, the pale demon chilling my core
A beautiful abomination to which I gazed without hesitation
The devil or god’s sweet avocation- a chilling beautiful whore.

Though nearer she came, the she with no name
My fear stayed most tame as I watched her cross the floor
Her cloak of sweet death and chill baited breath
Numbly left me bereft of the sense to abhor.

Calmly I waited though to death she was fated
I did not look to escape it - this beautiful whore.
For sweet pleasure and pain –brought by the she with no name-
I tasted without shame or blame of the she I adore.

She asked not to wife nor my fear of her knife
But simply my life I already had stained and tore
And in replacement she’d give a simple reason to live
And a chance to never relive the pain of life’s war.

She crooned of an easy way out that left not a doubt
Making obsession a route where one needn’t see ahead or before
She crooned of release and a way to make cease
Of my obstruction of peace by making a lover of numb evermore

Then my mind did finally steer toward the inevitable fear,
Thought still too numb for a tear inspired by that whore
That release that she gave she knew would leave me depraved
Having no future to save should I fall in love with her monstrous lore

To live or to die, to stay sober or high
Her mouth asked the sweet lie, asked me to promise forever more
I turned from her then, for I still fear that end
And a mind that won’t mend –the gift of that beautiful whore

That shameless blameless beautiful whore.