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It waits for you, like a juggernaut,
A mask of furry, and stinking of rot.
Waiting within the shadow and gloom,
You're sick with unease, you're feeling your doom.
It tastes your fear, so rare and divine,
Sadistically moaning, "you will be mine".
It wants you, your essence, your spirit, your soul,
It wants you, it needs you, your life to behold.
What creature is this, that cannot be named?
No one knows, it's not written, or from where that it came.
I had nothing in particular in mind when I wrote this, and I shared it with my friend when I was done, and she said that to her, it described "addiction" almost to a T.  I have been an addict for 10 years, clean for the last 6, and when she said that, I realized she was absolutely correct.

What do you think?

— The End —