Addiction to heroin is riding on a tiger's back
You can't tell it where to go, you can't stay on top
And you need to know, if you fall off you will die
It rules your life without a benefit to you
Your dreams become quiet
The misery of life passes by, slowly
Only to be replaced by new miseries
They call it the horse
But one that never won a single race
The darkness has been made manifest
As my screaming becomes a silence
The black hole of existence swallows me
And for a moment of quiet, I can chase
In the numb following injection
I find emptiness, and there's a peace
Serenity, a perfect calm, but not sleep
Coming out of it, one faces a truth
It was a moment and not the whole
You'll do anything, to get one more moment
Even if it is just for the taste
“I have learned the junk equation. Junk is not, like alcohol or
weed, a means of increased enjoyment of life. Junk is not a
kick. It is a way of life.” William S. Burroughs
