Escaping Mortal Sod

There's only one addiction

though it comes in many shapes

That thrashing, restless seeking

to from mortality escape

You numb it with the bottle

and think that transience gone

Till the frozen dragon wakens

with the rising of the dawn

Mask it with a needle

rise on wings of drugs

Until you waken in an alley

beaten black and blue by Thugs

You climb successful ladders

Above mere mortals to ascend

To find that they are leaning

On nothing more than just the wind

Constant entertainment

endlessly occupies

keeping true attainment

always in disguise

Addictions, addictions blinding the mind

So that all will be seekers and none will ever find...

...Perhaps that passing breath of God

Can lift us from this mortal sod?