Midnight friends whisper,
Strange stories and mystical tales;
Those I want to hear, those I want to dream-
When the night is deep, with no stars in the sky.
Midnight friends talk, but softly,
Softly into my ears, their voice seductive as imported honey;
Voices that lull me to sleep, heavy as morning drowsiness-
I dream, of a world without you
It is a terrible dream, albeit only a dream.
Midnight friends slur, incoherent,
That I buy more of them, they are not never-ending you know;
I buy them, only to hear their whispers; and to dream momentarily-
My feet are unsteady and complain vigorously
Before being carried away on the alcoholic pyre.
Midnight friends keep rambling,
I continue the hellish nightmare, only to find;
I’m late; for my own funeral.
Trapped in a bottle, waiting to be finished.
I leave the bottle all but finished-
I live in the drops left behind.
Image courtesy- Myself