I wrote the following poem, not to suggest that there is no remedy in the mighty power of the Holy Spirit, but to illustrate the descent into addiction.

Addictions

I peaked into the gates of hell past a silky net

Where, by charms with a suicidal smile, I was met.

The sun began to set, or was it eclipsed,

By a hit, a smooth substance over my lips

From a cordial that caused my senses to dull

Flowing from a cup made of a bleached human skull.

Hysterical laughter, friendship; flowed free

Soon the frenzy wouldn't let hold of me.

Down winding corridors I had never been

To a place that the old leather bound called sin.

Potions, smoke, spirits I swore I'd never drink,

Deeds and thoughts I thought I'd never think.

But the party had just began, guitar music blaring,

Then all my friends changed to strangers staring,

As I crossed lines I swore I'd never cross,

Promises of gain, soon turned to loss.

Worst enemies: closest friends, carried off my wealth,

Mirror revealing, the phantoms stealing, even my heath!   

The stairs led up but never ended,

And with each step I took, I descended.

So I ran to the gates, though the way was blocked,

But I pushed through to find, the gate was locked.