My Conscience takes all my mistakes
   And hurls them in my face
So I relive each negative
   And demeaning disgrace
With clarity, severity,
   And overwhelming shame.
Day after day It does convey
   Just who I have to blame.
I find no peace, my mind wont cease,
   I’m constantly harassed;
My mind wallows within the throes
   Of dredging up my past
So for support I find comfort
   In Spirits so divine
And I believe in Their reprieve-
   As warmth and bliss combine.
These Single Malts drown all my faults
   I count them one by one
Watching each pass through a raised glass
   My Aspersorium-
But mine contains Heavenly Flames
   Which sear into my soul
I’ve come to Praise this intense blaze
   Which makes me lose control.
It does submerge the morbid urge
   To find a swift release
And be content with permanent
   And everlasting peace.
But my meekness is a weakness-
   A flaw which guarantees
A gilded hell where I can dwell
   Toasting bad memories.

Yvonne Denise Springer
Copyright ©2005 Yvonne Denise Springer