this empty room

this room is empty tonight

and I sit here scowling into the dark

on better days I refrain from noticing

today I have nothing between these walls

so I spew out the bloody ashes

lingering in the wooden corpse

I'm currently residing in

this theatrical innuendo dots my thoughts

with the only whisper of grace I'm sure to find

how else does a beggar kiss the time away?

it isn't as though I haven't rummaged my thoughts

for that smoky cure

that's sure to waft right through the room

without a glance in my direction

I want to be the owl that dreams of being a star

peering into the night with impossible determination

and although I hear a mad wind howling at my feathers

I stay the course defiantly

sipping the fierce red wine of triumph when I finally

fall asleep