the ice in the glass shifts as it
slowly melts into the beautiful caramel
colored whiskey
with each sip a warmth holds me
like a fur covered glove
lulling me into its safety
from the icy winds that bang at the door
no dream ever brought me such pleasure
no dream ever brought me such hell
within the confines of my mind
i slip back into the nightmare
the heat of the whiskey drowning my brain
memory of a story once told to me
when all the world was a paradise
a story told to me as a child
when it seemed all were children
when school bells rang and we
danced out those prison walls
we were told of a garden of splendor
we danced and sang at the expense
of truth we laughed to know that we
would be there soon
at the expense of a lonely child
nothing mattered but the collective
at the expense of a lonely child
nothing mattered but the doctrine
nothing mattered but the old man
at the soap box
he was not there for us
he never was there for us
but all we wanted to do was play
all we wanted to do was laugh
in sanitarium hallways and
sarcophagus rooms we stood
heads hung low
looked upon by sadistic old men with sanctimonious
venom in their eyes and hatred in their bones
we were kids
our minds were only as ripe as our age
the whiskey in the glass has been drowned down
the ice just tiny shards of what used to be
i pour another drink
i drop the ice into the glass and
the sound it makes breaks my heart
soon that perfect garden
that paradise waiting for the blind
will be floating in my head as i lay
down to sleep
the whiskey sorrow and memories
washing me into a perfect paradise
