Rite

As the morning washes away the night
The little trickle of light wrinkles my delight
My drained body stuck in the rhythm of the night
Doing my ritual zombie walk with full pride
Staggering in the presence of the sun and men

Wearing my hangover like a helmet
My head stills then spins only
Spiraling out of control 
Only my demons can hold me
Embrace me and lead me 
Their embrace swallows the woes of life

My vain reality is this ritual
Warped in cheap beer and smoke
To musk the pleasure am addicted to
The pain I have slain,bottle after bottle
On the altar of youth each day 
A seductive allure I cannot abstain 
For I am stuck in the rhythm of the night

Moving to the rhythm of my heart
Pumping it's fuel through my veins
For this insatiable body
Destined to return to the source



16/08/2019
Eight Word Challenge
Emile Pinet
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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