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Dark poems
Drink of life

Pleasure my purpose,
I pushed and shoved,
Took what I needed,
Without twang of guilt,
Or fear of reprisal--
Whether a slice of love,
Or the occasional bribe;

In opportune moments,
When greed commanded,
Rules had to be bent,
Truth betrayed,
Sometimes loyalty
Trampled into the ground--
Yet I never grovelled;

Indifferent and defiant,
Committed to no one,
But myself,
I wasted and squandered
Until that fateful twitch;

There were times a tiny voice would tweak my brain, but I'd merely shrug:
For in the end, could any consequence really be much worse than death?





 
 
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