escape: ode by a junkie

the treasure lay stored,
in a concealed door;
to be unleashed ,
to refurbish the jaded beast.

rolled in it's pyre ,
it simmers and ignite ,
with each breath that sighs,
it soothes and lifts;
the consciousness that lay wry.

the world recdes away,
makes us wonder what the fuss was all about,
but a doubt remain, that what lay silent ,
will rise again' strike again.

we kill the thought ,
with the spear of thought ,
that when the reality pry,
we will again light the fire that turned dry.