Angel of darkness, angel of light
only the Devil may say which is right
I wish I may, I wish I might
Gain from my inner demons a little respite
(I hope a little good remains despite)

a Hiroshima heart, my own Nagasaki looming
only after the eruption may flowers begin blooming.
Like a cigarette unfurled
the poisonous ambrosia twirled
a dirty ballerina dances in my veins
succumbing to that which tames

the spirit and the soul
a Gulag groping for the daily dole.
Heart racing, my grip goes slack
Herculean strength needed to go back.
All the comforting phrases and oohing sighs
meaningless clichés to my jaded eyes.

I cannot go on any longer
this Dachau oven world, too somber.
So as I take this one last breath, mon amour
know that you
could have done more.