The Bar

You will see me stopping here To watch this bar fill up with laughter Between the darkest evening of the year And the dusty light that has drawn us near. You must think my accent is strange Mumbling sounds in a downy lake With effectual ease and hoary winding age For a stranger to ask if there is some mistake. Although your acquaintance is lovely This red street is dangerously dark and deep And I have far to go before I sleep in the ally Where fear is the only other sound to weep. At the collects bar, the tourist ask Whose drinks are these you did not know? I could only see the glow in the glasses filled with deadly ice-cold snow. The moment finally came after living hard with poise and strength, and gritted teeth, In all the dangers you have survived breathless bodies in paradise plated in the heat Blood on the bar appears to most as sauve The center of activity to be loved and hate With dark clouds and lights lowered above Red ground, saddest verge feels the weight.