Fleur du Mal

Infamous flower-
plushly petaled
poppy
your juice is a
portal
to perdition
and pain...
Brightly
crimson
or creamy China
White,
Do your partakers
know that your embrace
is never an
ascension?
Curious creatives
and quirky artists,
quiet, brooding loners
and all you, existentialist
seekers
and you,
hipster mystics,
misunderstood orphans of the
living-
Do you know
that your
blasphemous
communion
is but a kiss
of death?
Numbed,
glassy-eyed and guant
Do you recognize
your unraveling,
see
your very own
plunge?
Or do you still
romanticize
such a sorry state?
Hellbent
you row down Lethe,
arrive on a dark
shore,
but there are no heroes
here,
nor heroics
only the
damned,
only heroin's heavy
toll...

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