The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Blackfly Blacksheep Burn

There’s an aching in my heart
Just in a little bit now Ill be ok
The black sheep constant game
Arrives and sails his sympathy in absent muse

They don’t see they are killing themselves
The sheer vanity of the boisterous corrupt fly

Phantom dreams 
Just in a little bit now Ill be ok
The black sheep constant game
Arrives and sails his sympathy in absent muse


You can only seek time before it seeks you

They don’t see they are killing themselves
The sheer vanity of the boisterous corrupt fly

Phantom dreams 
Merchants who sell disbelief
Dead mans soul
Black sheep free'd
Lock your intent
Learn and live
Shadows shine when with poor man's fall
Nothing but crumbled and ground
I can't live right
knowing you're not
I fight for breathe 
But struggle to maintain
The pleasures of drowning
Escaping to the drawing end of pillow soft
Time would have no dissolve
My fleeting slow burn 
The past is fire
The fire is burn
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace