Drink to Death

by Stephen Watson

The spider’s kiss; welcomed
By me, with open mouth.
As liquid poison fills my veins,
A sigh of contentment emanates
From my troubled soul.

Memories of a broken life transform
Into pixel imperfect imitations in
A picture slide show, which flickers
To a standstill.

Echoes of my wasted years grow
Fainter, finally melding into
The silent solitude of my death.

03-Jul-2013

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