My Drug of Choice.
It has no voice,
And yet it speaks to me.

So seductively it whispers nothings in my ear.
Cajoling, pleading, demanding in tones for only me to hear.

I cannot put this Gin back in the bottle once He’s out again, you see,
Though it was I that rubbed the bottle, He is master here, not me.

Oh! Wondrous and rare are the days that He is silent.
But always the days that follow are His most violent.

Struggling to keep the beast at bay is beating me.
My best efforts to stem this tide fall short so woefully.

Again, I cry into the empty night for aid,
And listen, silence answers, my echoes fade.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Djinn

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s