The Vile Drink

Storms glistening sporadically Inspiration wavering dramatically I can’t move like I should! I am fighting against the reveling, reviling flood Evidence of many spawning deaths cannot stop me And the zombie maggots grow as they are left rotting I can’t stop now—but I have no particular place to go Mentally merrily on my slithering way Into creepy caves of my intellect and hemorrhage The saliva of its mouth and the cruelty of its teeth Ensnares me into multitudinous quicksand of truth Raining in this cave is the vile that will keep me working I watch others drink it and it drives me to fury Take of me what you may—but don’t take me all away! I will remain in the inspirations of time! I will remain like the grime on the succulent wine Like gathered dust on the ivory keys The music will always stick to me Your words will plant a grave into my lines As my madness entwines and bewitches their minds Weathered in the snowing wrath of immortal sorrow I cannot wish for a bloodier tomorrow I will glisten like blue fires as long as it storms And the rest will shred into dumped, plumped worms Infecting everyone in the inspired malevolence Of pure, sick false innocence Braid your way if you dare Encircle me to your snare But do not drink of me within a fathomed rig Or I will turn you into the stone of a pig