The monkey dancing on your back

Clashes his little symbols,

And hands you the trumpet,

You must make your death march a parade—

Judgment Day is around the corner,

They’ve been saying for centuries now.

The hour is out of place upon the clock;

Big hand strikes,

And the bell chimes.

Heed my warning;

The light is anything but warm.

It’s easy to get lost in the underworld—

Swept away by the riptide of Chiron’s paddle

Making waves in the Black Sea of your youth.

Do they not say that your life is a cinematic experience?

Fun for the whole family—

As you relive your bittersweet victories and greatest griefs.

Blame the morphine for the frost that settles in your bones,

The Ativan for your indifference disguised as comfort.

It takes the strength of five men to hold you down—

I heard you yelling at the wall—

Trying to jump out of your bed

Like a fish leaps from the sea to escape a fate as shark bait,

Flopping around on the pavement

With all the fresh air to breathe,

But no way to take it in.

You were running from the inevitable—

Hades with his foot in the door.