In this place
And deep within this time
Lost as I contemplate whether to drink the crimson wine
To put the sweetness to these lips of mine…
I bare the toil, hurt and anger
Close the lid and forget the danger
I forgive these words that fall with such ease
And chant the verse that echoes: Cease!
I laugh and play with life and beyond
The choices lost as I abscond
Take the book I know will be
I will become – and it my liberty
But for now the blues will intertwine
And I the master will not drink the crimson wine
And I shall sing as my words are seen
But the end to the end will become…
And then I the master will once again have won.

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