He could feel its presence, within his reach,
it almost called out to him,
an irresistible force,
a hunger.
He tried to not think about it,
but it invaded his thoughts, unremitting,
whispering in his ear.
He knew it was ruinous, a thing to avoid,
but the mind was weak, its want irresistible.
His obsession, his downfall,
it cried his name.
He sought, deep within, to summon the strength
to fight off the malice,
knowing that the battle was lost
before it had even begun.
He tried to block out its wail,
tried to resist.
Could he ever find that elusive fortitude
to not follow the path, the path that took him
to a place he didn’t want to go.
A place of weakness,
of self contempt.
But its call was too strong,
he craved the darkness that lurked inside him,
it was a disease of his own making.
Quietly he succumbed, the battle again lost,
the war still raging within.
His bitter curse had prevailed one more time.
He had lost,
he had won,
another time, every time,
his dark desires still gripped him firm.