Tales from the Bartender

The Waiting Room

The silence collides on the surface of the plywood walls,
Like waves upon the shore it breaks and scatters,
Deafening the very core of my being,

I sit and wait for a whisper of life from your lips,
My body has grown numb from the eternity of immobility,
And yet I await your response with great anticipation,

I have lost hunger for food or thirst for drink while I linger,
The only nourishment I crave for is that of your presence,
And that is why my body had begun to feast on itself from starvation,

Insomnia now pierces my vessel, tearing it to shreds.
The waking world burns for even in my dreams my desire plagues me,
The lord of dreams cannot save me from my prison,

I walk the empty streets with nothing but my love for you to guide me,
It seems that this is a folly for I find myself lost within a labyrinth,
Trapped within the winding roads that lead on to oblivion,

In a shallow pool I stare at my bitter reflection,
Remembering my previous life filled with beauty and vigor,
But all I see is a dead man tattered by time,

I weep for the world no longer accepts its bastard son into its halls,
Tears that clear the dirt and grime that have encased my face,
It shatters the mask that I have worn to hide my imperfections,

As the shards of my dreary present break and buckle the sky slowly parts,
The silence is broken by a rhapsody that the host could not produce,
My cellular phone rings and I have found myself once more,

posted by Ben Bulac @ 2:50 AM