To Rum
Tomorrow still trapped; in time, in this place
Two steps to the good, yet not enough
For the Black Ghost tugs by the 'ruff
A relentless cold wind stings my face
Try and break free, held tight is his grasp
Slowly wear down the brass of the clasp
To the left, nothing seen just the nights thickness
To the right, a dim light leading nowhere
Where's the moon and its glowing glare?
After some Rum, stumbling in drunkenness
A trip, then a tumble; and flat on the ground
A cry for help. No ones to be found
Beads of sweat tread my brow. Cheeks a deep red
A piercing sharp pain constricts my heart
Awakened suddenly, stuck in the dark
Turning to the side, rolling off that cursed bed
A dream, just a dream; then a sigh of relief
My mental state stricken by nothing but sleep
Copyright © William Bracamonte | Year Posted 2011
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