ABSOLUTION


A white stained porcelain sink,
Supported by rusted turrets.
Against a crumbling wall,
Peeling off paint from eons before.

The cracked silver from the shattered mirror,
Illuminates a ghostly reflection ,
Far from human.
Far from driven.

Ashes of empires burnt long ago,
Mixed with the omnipresent polluting dust,
Reside on the tattered carpet,
Where the flowers have withered to a deranged spot of grey yellow.

Limp bodies from the week before's revelry,
Lie unattended on the cushy mattress.
The stink of methanol pervades the infertile atmosphere,
Preventing the ether from taking over the town.

The creased rays on the Sun muscles its way through,
Into the muddy waters of the dead morning.
An eye creaks open with a hideous glare,
To draw the last threadbare curtain on the emerging day.