Dipsomania

Born into foul kindred much unkept and seldom clean
From wraithe and hellish scenes berieved from other clans; prestine
Lonely and begrimed from actions spilt before his sight
A boy was raised by barren souls thro'out his lonely nights
While others played in daylight
He would watch from hills
Such poor souls couldn't fight
To teach a boy the skills
To treat his fellows kindly
Or care for other beings
So stumbled, did he blindly
amidst the woeful scenes
outside he sat in silence still afriad to say hello
And as his fellows grew about in fear he sank below
His elders drifted further from the boy they'd never known
Until one day he found a bitter taste to call his own
While maidens dubbed him charming
For being, still, so shy
The beast of love, so foreign
forced his tongue to never dry
But still the Harlots chased him
And further did he sink
Into the wine which placed him
In comfort and in sync
For when he felt the warmth of liquor chewing at his bones
His life became extravagent and never quite alone
Until that night when he awoke and knew not where he'd been
but only knew the blood soaked in his clothes could not be his
From room to wood he stumbled for an answer he could see
settling he soaked his clothes within the tepid creak
And as he focused on the scent of copper in the air
Torn and riven faces peered with dead and solemn stare
The creak spat forth red water
A rusted sepultchre
(which) held pieces of another
and the blade which sever'd her
His elder rested pieceful
Still clutching to her hand
Into the night he ran
With only liquor in his hand