Mahogany colored eyes,
lured me in like fly to honey.
Mud colored hair-
thick and fair.
Sun riding the skin,
danger trailing behind,
I've become enchanted.
Days are longer,
Nights grow colder.
I am ****** into madness.
The Enchanter is my muse.
For the Enchanter I choose madness-
I choose insanity.
For anything I would do to stay here with the Enchanter.

The ocean, the dark.
Light from lighthouse fading in and out.
Seagulls cry out over my limp body-
I'm alone.
I'm floating.
The waves, they are gentle with me-
The sea, She is calm on this dreary day.
Water lapping my ear-
I'm alone.
Water lapping my ear, I hear the seagulls calling-
I'm alone.
Water lapping my ear, I hear the seagulls calling-
I'm-

I sit on this rock, singing my sour song
For any man weak enough will fall into the endless depths-
The dark current strong.
For I sing like a ***** into dusk until dawn.
For any man weak enough will fall.
Until He-
His face untouched by the sea.
Cheeks rosy of winter strife.
Soft voice carried by the tide,
A whisper lost to the crashing waves-
Yet as gentle as the dawn that saves.
He who will not fall.
Salt which clings to weathered skin
Not his-
His face pristine
A voyager pure of sin-
The sea his mistress, harsh and keen.
I sit on this rock singing this sour song-
To no avail.
I sit on this rock wailing this sour song-
He will not fall.
For his name Adam, the Sea-Man
Weak man he is not.
I sit on this rock screeching this sour song-
He who will not acknowledge my sour screeching.
Adam, The Sea-Man.

I drag my feet along the cold wooden floor,
Fingertips tracing the outline of shelter-
Searching for more of the brownish drink.
Blood pounded through me as glasses from earlier course through my veins, my body.
A stark reminder of the drunken man I am.
I pour two more glasses-
Then I throw this empty bottle,
Angry at the world for this drink has vanished.
Scattered items in front of me meet the same fate as the bottle.
My kids, oh my kids, watching, wailing, pleading, unsure of how to stop me.
My wife, oh how she is watching me, cursing me, calling out the things that I do.
But I, the drunken man,
Can no longer see my wrongs.
Who is she?
No ill words will make me better
Only the smooth touch of a woman's feather.
I am.
The Drunken Man.

thump
Something lurking, stalking,
In the distance following.
thump.
Trees in hiding;
Swallowed by mist.
thump.
I cannot escape it.
Eyes closed-I'm suddenly naked.
thump.
thump.
It is here.
thump.
thump.
thump.
thump.
thum-

He who writhes, fallen quickly unable to rise
He who cries and groans of all the pains and heartache
He who trembles at the sight of man, who ******* at the site of woman
He who all woman want, his comforting touch, great love and all of his body.
Carry me to him tonight, he carry me along the path of blight.
He carry me towards Love and all her pleasant feelings
He who can hold me when Love leaves and please the ever restless mind my soul cries.
He carry me