A Failed life

And the pale blue sky,
Changed along shades of grey,
The heavens rained vengeance,
In a class of its own, persisted the day.

On days like these,
Stories weave themselves,
They speak to me of distant lands,
Of angels and demons, of fairies and elves.

And oblivious to the crowd,
My conscience becomes a wanderer,
It's a beautiful world in there,
Deep inside, down and under.

I live these stories,
As long as it pours,
With the rain gone,
I rereat to my lowly odd chores.

Maybe someday, I won't depend,
On anything but self to free my mind,
Tell me mate, one last time,
Wouldn't that be a sight?

The holy bottle

Drowning in the bottle,
You don't fight to breathe,
Letting it all go,
You close your eyes and leave,
This world so undone,
By its own decree,
The body is laid to rest,
Your soul is free,
You wander the other worlds,
The utopian dreams come true,
You know, the only person who ever mattered,
Was and will always be you.
Here's to black over white,
And to the one above everything you ever knew.

Solitude

Reticent meditations,
Of an ascetic mind,
Virulent ramblings
Of a different kind,

It's only the road ahead,
With turns that blind,
He must travel light,
And leave everything behind,

So he chucks the world.
Into the shit sack it belongs,
He starts his journey afresh,
With the road and his songs.

He's roamed for years,
In search of peace,
In this night of solitude,
He has finally found bliss.

Takes time,
As it sinks in,
Somewhere inside,
Somewhere within. 

Switching chapters

The poet got stuck,
The reason? The muse.

Having read,
Her mind, her soul,
He knew,
This was the dead end,

He needs to close,
This Chapter that never was,
And explore,
Virtues worthy enough,

Progressing his story,
With genuine stuff,
For fallacies suck,
And he wont give a fuck,

What he wants,
is what he should get,

He wont buy,
Made up scenes,
Your shit is non existent,
It's business he means.