Thursday, December 19, 2013

Old Monks

Served chilled in sparkling glasses
Questions, answers and impasses
Time stands still, runs backwards awhile
Where friends speak a word, walk a mile
Drown out the noise, the pride
Make sense of a journey, at the crossroads decide.
Drink the poison, roll the dice
Memories linger beyond the clinks of ice.
When the darkness ends
The dreamy fabric rends
Drudgery, once more it mounts
The old monk's confession no longer counts.