The “Yes!” we scream, whispers “No”
Greet the reaper as he reaps
and weep because of the same
This silly game
We do this to ourselves
We’ve mapped out our whole mission
We sketched the whole thing out
The plan for our destruction
The black hole that is you
It will consume you
More, more is your mantra
The only thing that will not go is “no”
Inject the pleasure
Digest the pain
Is it all a game?
You dance to your own dirge
Tags: addiction, Consequences of the Fall, drug addiction, drugs, enslaving sin, poem, poety, The Fall
About Paul O'Brien
I am a lot of things; saint and sinner. I struggle and I strive. I am a husband and father of three.
I have been in pastoral ministry for 10 years. I went to school at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary but most of my schooling has been at the School of Hard Knocks. I have worked various jobs, including pheasant farmer, toilet maker, construction worker, and I served in the military. My wife and I enjoy reading at coffee shops, taking walks, hanging out with friends and family, and watching our three kid's antics.