The idiosyncrasy of
the elasticity of
a heart
that knows how to mend,
bewilders the mind
of the drunken fool
who thinks that it is the end.

To ameliorate
his rate of devastate
he must look
to his celestial mother
who he not yet knows
and out of cool, still air
soon he will discover.

But the throttle of
the bottle that
he cradles
deep in all his grief
kidnaps his abilities
like a devious,
forlorn thief.

And soon then when
again he finds
another
to hold tight
his mother will have
shown to him
the beauty of her light.