GH ( / Cork, Ireland)

The Abyss

His sunken and tired eyes stare on.
He is lost at the bottom of the glass,
Like a child in a corner shop
His mouth waters with desire.
His wrinkled brow displays his agony.
Torn between past and present emotions
Of love and lust.
The barman laughs loudly.
The till rings.
His dead father’s sacred words echo in his mind.
The glass sits empty while the cigarette burns.

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