This flame, with the snug warmth it forever fetches;
The unwieldy extent of pleasure, far as it stretches.
’Neath your skin, thin lines of gratification it etches,
Yet, unaware it’s the atlas of ruin it mutely sketches.
Ugly indulgence – hard to share and harder to drop
Just an attempt, then 2, 3, 4…until it is over-the-top!
Ever petrified at probable public response to the flop;
Still, coming clean makes your heart want to stop!
See, it is like heating up an eager-to-explode canister,
Or walking on hot stones and never expecting a blister,
Or scooping coals of fire, probing what’s to be learnt.
Please freely execute me if you are not gravely burnt!
Though it feels ever so soothing, the wild passion,
Never think its cost will treat you with compassion.
Buddy, devastation is a certainty, not a prediction,
Unless you tame that craving and fix that addiction.
Subtle at first, and hard to distinguish,
Yet once ignited, harder to extinguish
Could be anything: habit, food, money, & not only “fun;”
Even so, the upshot of each is wreckage in the long run.
Fondling the same flame that would be your death,
Cuddling the very inferno that’d snuff your breath;
’Tmay be much too late to see you wrongly presumed
that by kindling that fire you won’t surely be consumed.