The Grip of Vices

They slither in, like serpents' coils, Whispers soft, as blood it boils. In shadows deep, they make their home, These cravings fierce, I’m not alone.They gnaw and bite, these silent chains, A twisted dance, where nothing gains. Their grip is tight, I can't break free, A puppet lost in misery.Each indulgence, a fleeting taste, A moment's bliss, a lifetime's waste. But the hunger grows, a beast unchained, In its jaws, I'm forever stained.I reach for light, but darkness calls, A siren’s song in hallowed halls. Each step I take, they pull me back, Into the abyss, where morals crack.These vices rule, they mock and jeer, Feeding on my every fear. My hands are tied, my will is weak, Their poison seeps, so dark, so bleak.No escape from this endless thrall, As I crumble, they stand tall. A hollow shell, a shadow’s shade, In the grip of vices, my soul is laid.Their venom courses through my veins, A legacy of scars and stains. I scream, I fight, but can’t break free, These vices, now, are all of me.They hold the reins, they steer my course, A bitter ride, without remorse. In their embrace, I slowly rot, A prisoner of what I sought.I am the beast, I am the prey, In this game, there's no escape, no way. For vices strong.