Mundanity mars emotion
Mourning masked as a mania moldering
Freed forever from feeling
Pharma's fix frames life different
Chemical compositions kill cognition
Cattle complacent as they are culled
Thoughtless and thankful are they
This cathemeral theocracy of apothecary
Pill peddlers push potent policy
The pleading public pervaded
Dedicated doctors diagnose difference
Designer drug dealers dampening desires
Non-fiction's an affliction.
Here's your prescription, a healthy new addiction.
Wonder waning with each swallow
Wander not, we will follow
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About the Creator
Tales from a Madman
.. the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the Prince's indefinite decorum.
The Masque of the Red Death
Edgar Allan Poe
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Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Love the imagery in this piece!