Manic Deception

The drugs of a manic deceptionist,
invade the mind with illusions that twist,
a carnival of interference, a frenzied trance,
concurring the soul, leaving nothing to chance.

Signaling the hub to over-generate,
the flow of senses pushed past their gate.
Overloaded circuits start to pretend,
reality distorts, boundaries bend.

Electrifying the nerves, frying the brain,
a symphony of pleasure intertwined with pain.
Playing to the tune of your convulsing form,
a dance with darkness, a brewing storm.

Retching in pain, yet pleasure seeps in,
a paradox where agony and ecstasy begin.
The warping light jerks through glazed eyes,
blurring the lines between truth and lies.

Once yours to control, but no longer now,
lost to the addiction you can't disavow.
Your mind expands, reaches new extremes,
a fractured reality, a maze of dreams.

The externals pulse, a beat so strange,
a rhythm of madness, a mind deranged.
The pleasure is real, the doom assured,
for every high, a deeper wound incurred.

You spiral deeper, no ground in sight,
fueled by the hunger, consumed by the night.
The pulse quickens, the shadows loom—
a beat of pleasurable forthcoming doom.

The drugs deceive, they promise relief,
but they steal your soul, turning joy to grief.
The laughter fades, the euphoria wanes,
leaving only echoes of fractured chains.

An impending doom, a life undone,
chasing the high, forever on the run.
You sold your soul for moments so brief—
now lost in the chasm of a hollowed belief.