Waking up to the familiar pain shooting through his neck
and a grumbling stomach put through endless tortures by time travel juice,
ignoring the mind numbing headache
his eyes transfixed to those rolling empty bottles effortlessly trying to seduce.
As his lustful lips longed for a sip of the poison
driving him ill at ease,
his parched throat let out a pained groan
begging for his thirst to appease.
Crawling his way to the well stashed bar in the living room
he felt like a stubborn and naive kid.
As he dragged himself thoughtlessly towards his doom
he yearned for nothing but from his burning thirst getting rid.
Right when he wrapped his fingers round the bottle of ill fame
to quench the thirst that understood no bargain,
he heard the voice of his deceased beau calling out his name
from a far corner of the outstretched garden.
Stumbling and falling every few steps on his way outside,
as he ran clumsily towards the voice of his sweetheart,
the distance kept growing with every step forward
and he felt his insides into a thousand pieces being ripped apart.
Screaming his heart out as he squandered whatever remaining zeal
he ultimately gave up on existance and the willingness to live.
And as if to quench his thirst and fulfill his dying wish
a drop of dew sitting atop a grass blade brushed upon his lips.
Thinking about finally joining his beloved in God’s abode above or under,
seconds before the soul’s departure he was washed over with bliss.
And counting his final breaths he smiled like a baby in deep slumber
letting the fact sink in that the dew drop was life’s ultimate goodbye kiss.