Speaking into it,
Hearing the garbled message,
Clear for a second,
But only in silence.
Elixer of the gods,
The purest wine flows.
To taste the lips,
No one knows.
Falling infinitely,
My cup runeth over,
Burning citrus covers the floor,
Like the Great Flood,
In time before.
Change will find its way.
Into the cup so deep,
There’s no where to go tonight,
The price of freedom is steep.
Crushed on the pavement,
It once had a great run,
It will someday serve its purpose,
Again, in the great cycle.
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