Liquid Gold, Amber Tinge.

A toast to all that has passed, and the memories that dead in aftermath.
Ode to the those faces, mindless, but with your watching eyes.

I did believe in the unending expanse of time, forever.

I never thought of fixing the glass at a Jewish Wedding.

I raise my glass, in the room's closing walls.

Just to feel numb, at least for a second.

I slap the faces of open armed friends.

I push everything, all out of my way.

Never can I burden myself with a smile.

Something soo perfect, given poison sting.

My mind clouds me with fairy tales gashing wildly at my chest.

Never letting me wake, never again to those morning eyes.

I still bleed though, don't I?

I still think, I still speak, I still look at my empty hands!

Scream these soothing anthems, tear apart my these scourged memories.

Then let me not wake to the nail-clip moon, watching the morning's sky.

Happiness, is it so deafening?

I know I should have seen this coming.

But take comfort though, you are moving on well.

Aloft, in a soft whimsical wind.