Descending into madness, drop by drop,
The senses dulled till mindless, naught perceived.
A subtle slide that ne’er rests ‘gainst a stop,
Till bottoming, the soul is much aggrieved.
No purchase then, when fingers claw the wall,
Attempting to escape the self-induced,
And were to gain a step, would surely fall,
Returning to his vomit, still seduced.
Contrite, one might assume a posture...
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