The Intoxicated Road

I walked sober on that intoxicated road
that took every traveller through its
crooked, twisted, askew pathways
reaching every unknown destination….
I stopped at a tavern to learn its history…
And I heard a long forgotten lullaby
I was stopped by a masked guard;
I removed his mask; he was faceless….
but he had a smile..
A smile I traced back to my past
Inside I met a painter, a gambler,
a poet turned preacher…
I met the victim and the guilty
both happy to be together again…
drinking from the same bottle
I sat down by the window and looked outside
the trees outside did not have visible branches
they had branches that grew into the earth….
they said that was the best way to escape man
There was no shade.. and scorching heat
I looked far into the sun dried eternity
I saw babies wrapped up and abandoned…..
their mothers had given birth to them
and disappeared into the earth
there were thousands of babies
no there were millions and billions
babies lying under the sun for no crime of theirs
I sat there and cried out loud… helpless..
We are all guilty for the times we live in
We are all guilty for the times we live in
And being Sober does not make us guilt free
And these intoxicated roads don’t lead us anywhere
Soberness only absorbs our remaining goodness
To be honest in mind… You need to be intoxicated
To fight the crookedness of the road ahead
to remain unwavering in our ideals,
We need to be intoxicated….
I emptied the glass….
I slowly saw the trees branch up again
I saw the babies vanish into their mother’s hands
I heard the lullabies turn into poems
the face reappeared and the guard
looked at me with unfaulted eyes
The Poet stopped preaching and became truthful again
The gambler became the victim and
the painter was the guilty…
They got their own bottles
I was no more sober… but the road was in control
And I stepped out and started walking intoxicated
on a road that I was in full control of
Intoxicated and in control…
better than being sober and lost……
Intoxicated and in control…
better than being sober and lost……

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Categories: Poetry

1 reply

  1. a poem to be felt, to be sensed, to be absorved in mind, only not to be uttered loudly……otherwise control will be intoxicated!

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