By: Gus Victoria
You toil in memory to keep alive
That which best is forgotten.
A spark here sets aflame
An inferno of regret
That casts dancing shadows of doubt
To play on the face of the fateful beauty
To whom we’ve given all.
We drink the wine of joy
Soured to despair
Poured by unsteady hands
Into a chalice made
Of once-broken glass.
We drink deep,
And dare not sleep,
For dreams wake
Demons thought slain
That we cast out in vain.
No messenger,
Best be gone,
Leave be the tattered memories,
Leave be the shattered future,
Be gone,
Be gone,
I drink.
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