Portrait Of A Dying Breed Poem by P.R Deltoid

I am seduced but yet disgusted
my imbued mind cannot be trusted
for intellect no longer holds such reason
why each tide of time and roll of season
I'll fool myself with great conviction
to sever these bonds of my addiction.
But still my feeble will it lingers
in courting deaths own slender fingers
for when empowered I still digress
at the mearest hint of fear or stress
and crawl right back in acquiesce
and vow, that this will be the very last
to stake triumphant my end repast
to remain unyielding and steadfast
and remember that concealed within
that brilliant alabaster skin
are filthy poisons I abhor
that drag me ever closer more
to bang my fist upon deaths door.
And yet, compulsion falls somewhere between
pure logic and the nicotine
and when addiction outweighs will
I know that I am captive still
for intellect no longer holds such reason
why each tide of time and roll of season
my imbued mind cannot be trusted
and I remain seduced and yet disgusted.