Sober and Somber On the Morrow
In truth we have but played a game
To which is given no real name
We drunken participants grow more sane
Last night our passions were as dire
As hell's unholy fork-tongued fire
This morning we are lame
For truth lies beyond the meat
Beyond our flesh, our blood and bone
To something that's more permanent
And more ageless than stone
To this I beg of no regret
That I may love another yet
Copyright © Edward Schmitz | Year Posted 2018
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