THE COMIC COCKTAIL

The glass comes filled, with water chilled … a liquid metaphor
The ice cube floats, an icy moat, inside the Waterford 
Stir the ice, the ice will melt … absorbed by violent storms
Until the cube, totally consumed… becomes eternal norm
 
Resolutions to ensure, we have a cure ….to purify the ice
As it melts into, the cosmic stew… with judgement on our vice
The heat is gone, no longer wrong … is stored inside the cube
Judgement passed, and at last … a peaceful solitude
 
Time corrupts, the water cup… and the general will 
restoring order in the universe … quiet, motion still
chaos defaults to natural state… master and the slave 
the consequence is large, grotesque … predacious roads, well paved
 
age has tempered impertinence… quiet moments prevail 
soul is energy for the universe … forms the cosmic cocktail
Deism may project another thought …as we stir the murky mix  
To the second ring, what will we bring …across the River Styx 
 
Once the flesh, renewal fresh …. like the shedding of a snake 
focus on, the path to come ….and the one that you forsake 
the voyage becomes a bird, a prey that’s looking down  
tracking victims, mountain pass and grassy covered ground
 
Screams from those, well disposed … the smell of burning flesh
Melting skin, dissolving sin … a soul that shares unrest
Pain and vile, from those exiled …expel the carnal urge
Cannot come in, with all that’s been…  trapped inside the cube
 
Without a respite, or early exit… as you taste the putrid murk
Your eyes convulse, with rapid pulse … fall into the cirque 
No way out, despite the shout … the echo of pleading cries
Just one chance left, to fail the guest … and vanquish all the lies
 
Slip into the tunnel … move closer to the light  
once blinded than see clearer…. Seek redemption from your fight
The clarity is frightening …  questions of unkindness
easier to not see … embrace the total blindness
 
There are no clocks, or steady vox …time will just stand still  
there are friends we see awash, in this cosmic cocktail  
reaching out to touch, fingers clutched …but cannot grab ahold 
the cube has not yet melted, purge that which now is old 
 
changes made, to escapades …and conquest in the past
what is done, cannot become… the ice that fills the glass 
embrace and touch, the mercy crutch, with those that went before 
resolutions long, fix the wrong … so you may enter thru the door