Crash!
The terrors of that haunting squeal,
Memories hurtling back
Pain to real
sunup or is it twilight?
Staggering with slurs of incoherency
The drunkard mumbles of the past
To want no future
Known blasphemy
Mental stimulus, incapable to comprehend
Maybe his children miss him
But he is at ends
Pressing cheap vodka
To chapped, chalked lips
His family calls
His need beckons
Leading down a dreary dark black tunnel,
Satisfied seeing such bright light
Meeting family again...
In gaining peace, shedding life
For in a world of sin; without,
Who can win?
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