Fine lines..

The last drop 

of intoxicating alcohol seeps in 

The night is livid 

With the sparkles 

Of innocent dreams 

Within the vast array of dreamers 

I try to find mine 

The pen guides my shaken hands 

To write what it believes 

Is "THE TRUTH" 

I tuck it in an envelope 

Trying to leave behind 

These pen etched scars 

But the envelope bursts open 

Flodding the desk

With the blood of ink 

And all that can be done 

Is to return to solace 

By pouring yet another drink...