How does something so small
hold you up
How can a liquid
make you whole
How many bottles
do you have to empty,
nights you have to obliterate
before you are pure again?
You are a walking dirge
sunlight fails
birds drop from their perches
shadows choke and
oracles die
as you walk by
All because you've had enough?
The bright side is hard to see
when you're digging your own grave
Everyone has their opinions of you
well, if they only knew
"the lot has been cast
into the lap;
but the whole disposing thereof"
is out of your hand
You are a simple man
with so many demons
You are on a death binge
and have lost control
So clench your teeth
and brace for impact.
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