There is a certain solace in alcohol
The soft gentle haze
Dulling the mind for just a moment
Reducing intense gaze
The social lubricant, some call it
It loosens up the tongue
And when the next morning comes
You must face what you have done
Alas for me it always is
A burden I must bear
That I remember oh so clearly
Everything that happened there
In that state of delicate balance
Between too little and too much
The rational brain is suspended
Without any form of crutch
And so it remains as always
The question of the hour
To drink, or not, or drink some more
No matter how sour
Each night he seeks solace
In the amber fluid
Drowning his sorrows for a moment
But never for long
As the glass empties so do his thoughts
Only to return again and again
Always the same
The shame
The blame
The sin which must be forgotten, yet never can
The crime that must be remembered
Until senseless, he pours into bed
The screaming in his head
Never ceases
Never ends
Even at the bottom of a glass it is heard
Muffled but not silent
He does not know who screams
Perhaps it is himself
In knowing what he has done
Losing any hope of redemption
Forgiveness an impossible dream
And so he seeks to forget
For that brief moment
All his cares gone
Not caring why he screams
In the gentle glow
That moment, however short, golden in bliss
Aware that it cannot last
Yet wishing it could
Pretending it will
Every night he tries to stop the pain
Knowing he cannot
Fearing he never will
Seeking what small comfort he can
For that fleeting moment
When the screams are muted
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