The Grey

by Harry

Submitted by Tarmin N. Melgif

.

Look upon this life,
The bottle on the shelf
It’s label, it is faded
The contents ageing, old.

Time forgotten flavour,
Of last years tasteless muse
To suckle on the nectar
Is the infecting of abuse.

Break the jar of escape
The wings of freedom, in it lays the lie
There is no soul soaring
Unshackled, in this tepid sky.

Reach my grasp up over,
The shards upon the shelf,
A rush of skin slicing,
A mix of spirit or lack there of.

A trickle, impure crimson
A nostalgia of how to feel,
A painful memory
The will it starts to peel.

Glass that wont stay broken
That steals life’s fragile worth
It floods rivers with toxic poison
Until this boat can’t navigate this earth.

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