And the muddy java rolled
down his throat. Froth instilled
and the witch commanded prohibition
on the wrong happy maker.
Fiend cache in bleak tall order, the
murderous little whites were
marched down to lazerous liquid and
dissolved down at Red River.

Plung little spring, plung.
And he did.
Fine, phlegmatic leap down.
His mind callusing, no longer
on Gold. No shorter to care
or to love or to sanity.
Off, just off.
I like it.

Nice use of metaphor (I gather its about drugs?) and its clever that you started with 'and' (implying that there is a previous part leading up to this one).

I don't know what else I can say, it seems solid to me.
Sing me to sleep.