...I stare at the dregs at the bottom of my cup - a metaphor for the darkness that scrapes the dry casks of my mind.?
I raise my eyes upward, to seek answers from the hapless whisps of white, battling to stay their place against the blaze of fury that mocks with fire -a voiceless scream against a flaming blunder...When suddenly , I behold , high up in the ether, looking down with eagle eyes, wild and free; the tonsured monarch, who neither drought nor flood daunts, as he searches for life among the rocks far down below -life that sustains life ; life that mocks the lie that is death!
And I laugh, my spirit soars, reaching to embrace that great lord who defies the inevitable. Clears my mind of the dark illusion ,that life must end. For life never ends even when the last breath is drawn.
And as for the last drop drained? A mere signal that it's time-- for another cup from the elixer -that is life still undead!!