The drowning thirst.

I swim each night.

Amin Moshrefi

The half empty liquor bottles litter my countertop. While they fail to provide me rescue, it hardly deters my nightly attempt in their liquid hope.

The sun’s glory warms all life just outside my window while the chilling haunt of death peers in at me. Like vulture, it senses my conditions frailty as my mind fills with comforting thoughts of eternal rest.

Watching the sunlight paint across the glass of these bottles, brings luminescence in visual as well as thirst intensity. If only the numbness from emotional pain they offer lasted the lighted hours.

The time when I must act as if all is well, to bring stability to those in proximity. The world has shaken for all who breath and I am not brave enough to stay or leave, only to take notice.

So many walk lifeless in responsibility while others have experienced the great awakening. The realization we create our own prison, and in turn our own escape.

The sun bids me goodnight as the moon softens my rooms view, but nothing for that of my soul. I had survived Genesis and Revelation alike, but not without heartbreak or the knowledge that once more we approach the new beginning.

I always find smile with mans interpretation of Angel, similar in their misrepresentation of wealth, but who am I to tarnish dreams they may have.

Battle torn and facing the new dawn, I looked for answers in bottles bottom, how well I had acclimated, how far I had fallen.

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𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 & 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.

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Men.21times@gmail.com

Men.21times@gmail.com

Create, Compose traversing subject and medium. To new beginnings, journeys, destinations and the wonderful beings we meet along the way!