The
Morrison Call
Emptiness
in your soul is the cruelest of all
The urge
to fill never suffers recall
For you
don’t get a vote in this curse upon your soul
Innermost
sanctity unprotected from the torturer of humanity
Speculate
as to the identity of your Marquis de Sade
Your
mind, the devil, your ex or a god
Doesn’t
make the difference, you still end up in exquisite anguished sufferance
The fight
begins and you never know if you’ll win
Graveyards
filled with tombstones of the brave, rich or talented
With
agonies or vices in extreme above the average dead
To reach
those heights requires touching depths
Involuntary,
but once put there, your road is infinity until eternity
The
decision must be made as you inflict once more
The
invisible power that pounds your door
Resist or
be taken, the good so difficult and evil so succulent
But you
know it’s the difference of death sooner versus later
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