vinebar

Zero Four
Author: 15

vinebar

A golden liquid passage,
Leading to a gray existence.
A home,
A prison,
One in the same.
So often to I roam free,
Only to be led back,
Convicted again,
Confiding in it.

A transparent dungeon,
Shackles of torment.
The stupor house,
Is my sanctuary.

Alas! I reach out,
Grasping my weapon of choice.
Dualing no one.
I retract.
Giving in again.

Again I lash out!
Weapon still in hand,
My weapon of choice,
But I have no choice,
I slay myself again,
On tumble at a time.

So stones of comfort,
Crumble at the majesty,
Of an eighty story power,
A golden idol tower,
A burial tomb for one.
The king of delusional gluttony,
Now laid to rest.

vinebar

Comments on this poem/writing:

DrZ (64.12.116.74) -- Sunday, January 9 2005, 04:14 am

Very nice poem

Thanks for sharing your poem 15 reminds me of my stepson his cry for help against drinking in and out of prison because of it his fight to live on thanks for your poem, i enjoyed reading it keep writing to us
 
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