not edgar allan poe

freedom

"Lose your morals," the voice sweeter than pure honey whispers.
"Take them from me, for what's mine is yours."

"Take my testimonies and put my words in your mouth. Take my thoughts, my lifestyle. Take my fists in your face, my pain is yours."

You tell me of all the things I can do when I let you take me over.
That the feeling of acid is cleansing, shh, shh; it'll be over soon.
this is for he greater good.
"You trust me, don't you?"

From God's lips to my ears, is this the truth?
This is all I have to believe.
I have to be free.

Promise to take me there?
To heaven, to the moon, the stars, even to the ends of the universe?

Your power is mighty, your strength greater.
Pulling my soul from my body, astral projection without sleep and highs without cheap weed.

Easy, easy, too easy.
To drag me through hell, just so I can hold your hand.
Like a leash on a dog, I am still not free.