The drinkers journey

I walk alone in the dark night

Bottle of beer In One hand 

Cigarette in the other

And the remnants of last nights 

Party trickles down my nose.

The silent words of depression 

Whisper through my weeping soul

Beckoning me as it calls

I drown myself in a beer storm

As the blistering breeze blows

I’m lost in the wilderness 

Walking a thinning fine line

Alcoholism or sanity 

One keeps the other at bay

Brown, orange finger tips

From lightning to many fags,

My voice a raspy cough

my skin; ashen, haggard. grey.