He sees the dawn break through the golden whiskey's light,
and hears the snoring moon in the cold staccato night.
he'd gulp away the poison indeed,
that will go down his throat and instill a mutiny.
A mutiny with no warriors with knives,
just a bottle of bleeding words and the broken hearts that smile.
His day passes in oblivious sights,
his conscience sleeps, while his eyes are wide.
His clothes are torn and ragged indeed,
he wishes he could smile, but his mouth is stitched with words he gulped away notoriously.
He sang to sing away the burdens, he carried once in life.
Danced to feel the air hit his skinny body, light.
His skin exuberated the purple poison he had confide,
and the swollen eyes marked the presence of the agitation that carried on inside.
His lady's kiss, that tastes whiskey like.
the snoring moon had sung the lullaby for the night.
The night that slept, with the moon bellied at height.
The hushing, humming air that moved with the silent end to the chain of breath.
The air didn't stop,
but the whiskey's dripping droplets came to an end.
cheers! to the ending soul and the bottle truly,
they had been true lovers after all making through the years beautifully.
About the Author
Comments