Poisoned wine

Thursday, September 6, 2007 16:50

Posted in category 55ers, Poetry

Poison,
Was laced into
The first glass of sweet wine you offered me

Since then even water tastes like fire

From betrayal is born vindictiveness
And for those of us who never forget
It is akin to the demon child born of a mortal womb

You will always be the poison in my sweet wine

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apasserby says:

September 6th, 2007 at 9:09 pm

There was no reason to stop drinking me - you would have always been drunk.
Too bad the hangover lasts forever.

The headache, the nausea, the loss of being drunk,
All should remind you of the folly, of having nothing left.

The poison starts reacting only when you stopped.
No fun revealing it earlier, my “dear”.
Mehrin says:

September 7th, 2007 at 8:41 pm

you are the best!!!!
ideasmith says:

September 8th, 2007 at 11:10 am

@ apasserby: Poison or not, you will always be dear.

@ Mehrin: :-p Really? Thengyu, thengyu!
Ashish says:

September 8th, 2007 at 10:37 pm

great one!!!
apasserby says:

September 10th, 2007 at 4:34 pm

@ideasmith: I don’t want to drink water from the bottle I got drunk. “Dear to me” is water.
ideasmith says:

September 11th, 2007 at 3:04 pm

@ Ashish: Thank you.

@ apasserby: Water is the manna, the panacea to all evils, the ultimate anti-poison…but also the chief ingredient in it.
Codes « XX Factor says:

September 11th, 2007 at 4:08 pm

[...] Poison, I missed you. [...]