Whiskey Burns

Posted on January 1, 2013

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The gold liquid
melts on the tongue
Sliding back down
the throat
Where it burns
like the sun
Helping the sadness
come to a close

But it’s just
buried deep
the whiskey hiding
it away
Burning it,
branding it in sleep
Awaiting to
rise a new day

Whiskey burns
is all he knows
As he gets older
Feels its warmth
welcomes it ever
helpful glow
Whiskey, the water
of life, never taunts

Only his ghosts
haunt his days, moments low
As the whiskey burns
its way down
To his shrivelled
liver, his darkened soul
His sadness of life
in whiskey he drowns

Hoping for the
salvation that will
never come
With each new
rising sun
Whiskey burns as
always
Whiskey burns his days

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Posted in: Poetry