They’re Only,
coloured bottles.
Though their contents, are
full of magic.
Full of dreams, or ...... despair.
Or a madness, that wrecks the brain.
Perhaps a potion, to make you sleep ?
But only if, you drink long.....And
Drink deep !
For the dead, have come to sup.
And, to mock me.
For I’m a part of them.
A brother.
And they await my turn.
It’s a fine divide, when.....
One, imbibes.
And, like the Borg.
They’re just
Trying to assimilate me.
Giajl © Jim Love