Bottles

Sitting on shelves as if waiting

As if wanting to be claimed

To be taken

Or consumed

But this won’t end well

But life never does

Just an inevitable end

Down by the river

Black river of blood

Black day for us

But certainty at last

For the ferryman waits

And clarity becomes all there is

And death…..

So we understand the allure

Coming from such confusion

Where uncertainty is everything

And only pain a given

And only anger the medium

Through which all is conveyed

Through which all is lost

Because the truth was raped

Too long ago……