A desolate bottle
A desolate bottle lies as empty as my very being,
Through glazed eyes of sorrow double im seeing,
An impatient thirst longing for the devils quench,
Off to buy my misery from a loathsome wench,
En route a distorted entity stops and greets me,
Offering the most puzzling dichotomy,
To beat this sinister affliction,
Or merely revel in addiction,
Normality, I must try for this,
Or forever be confined to the luring water like narcissus.
I Bergin to ponder this, pampering the idea of a life of bliss,
But in a sudden act of hubris these thoughts I playfully dismiss,
Then a sadistic laurf stops me in my path,
A dark malevolent soul begins to take control,
The cold touch of a scythe drags me into a bottomless hole ,
Categories:
bergin, death, depression, sad, longing,
Form: I do not know?