Drip... A bead drips down my brow. The days aren't getting any colder Tired and wary I lay on the floor. The still moments making me slightly older. Drip....A bead flows down my chin. The nostalgia hits me hard. The sagacious dreams of my youth. Seem pretentious ramblings of a listless bard. Drip...As it wets my neck. The guilt of a thousand tribulations weighs me down The light at the end seems hazy And thorns adorn the image of the anticipated crown. Drip..It rolls down my arms The words come slower now Mutilated in the squalor of my existence They have abandoned me with my thoughts in tow. Drip...I hear a splash The journey has reached its end The bead rolls along the floor Mutilated before I could make amends. I gaze away and clear the smoke And a lonely stupor engulfs me in its thrall I roll around And wait for another bead to fall.