Drunken Stupor; Reflections

In the middle of a swirly mass
Of people, drunk on something
Or the other, in need of water
To drink and to mix with a drink
A drop of some silky substance
Drops down, to the ground, now…

Some simply sober souls
Not that eager to fill up
Their dark empty holes
With chemicals and brews
Stood dazed and amazed
At the brilliant stupor show… “woah!”

Meanwhile he tells me
With solemn sobriety
Of the drunkest man
With earnest anxiety
Of the drunkest man
“If you love, love till the end…”

If you love, love till the end…

If you love, love till the end…