Dis-spirited

Your carcass lays dispirited
emptied of life
like the bottle in your hand
searching for the Spirit
amidst highs that drown
that cloak your suff'ring
and dull the nightmares
strolling by

You swill with a similar someone
that laughter might rise
and your garbled talk supply
what's missing all the time

Now laying drunk on the ground
you witness to your flight
and the shallowness of brotherhood
bottled against the Light

If Tired were tired

it would fall asleep.

Why do I fight my friend?

When the winds blow

the sand travels on:

those ever-changing dunes!

I drive o'er your shadow

and wrestle with your shade;

I embrace the vapors of your phantom

and kiss the wisp and fade