A Drunkard's Tale

 

With light steps, he swaggers

Grinning with false excitement..

He makes his way towards an unseen path

Heading for destruction or restitution?

Only he can tell.

Whistling, he casts his burden aside

That can wait, for now he is on a high

He makes his way towards the unthreaded path

Heading for scarring or reparation

Only he can tell

Or maybe he can’t tell

Tell... the tale of his ending

As a dirge begins 

And cries echoes from lips

While frowns grace the faces of watchers 

And silent thoughts that screams “there he goes, with my tips”

From friends who had cheered him on

Now...the dust becomes the revered

Putting a covering to a body so severed