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Jan 2014
Another day lived drop by drop,
I cannot turn to God, how can I stop?
Friends family beg alike,
Yet nothing compares to those golden drops.
Golden amber, bliss frozen into drops.
Is this how a mortal feels,
Having drunk ichor?
By the bottle there is no shame, only pain.
I drink a lot not sure if that's new,
These few moments of regret with myself,
Grace me till I reach the shelf.
But when the bottle is open, there is nothing more.
Sorrow makes me grip the bottle tight,
Despair won't leave me till midnight.
Delirium patiently waits,
As I drown in the amber fluid.
All thoughts of abstinence are crude,
I no longer have any pride.
All this regret is from a former me,
One I can no longer be.
Revelation and realization overcome me like a high tide,
Sorrow drowns me in its folds.
I guess there is no other way yet,
So I drink till I choke.
Silent stares from my friends,
Cut the silence like broken glass.
The silent sobs of my mother,
Sound so distant. Dampened by the liquor.
I despise what I have become,
I have lost my own self.
Maybe one day I'll be back,
Till then I'll drown and hate.
Atlas Rover
Written by
Atlas Rover
906
   Prisha Sinha and Mahima Gupta
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