Red blood wine, and wasting time
Crying for; a love, like yours and mine

One that will never be again
One that will never end

Rivers of tears
Seasoned with fears

A whisper of, Thees kissed
That so desperately is missed

Elusive dreams, and hints of
Scenes that have since past

The terrors of, those forgotten scenes
That.. will.. never.. be, again

Insights into, what is in store
For a man floored, and in pain

He tries and tries and
Yet, he can not refrain

From these images of; love
Sneaking around in his misery

He uses them, as you did him
He holds them, prisoner all

As he does you, and in the past
The love, that wouldn’t last

His heart is shattered, like the crystal glass
Splintered by a high note, forever sung

Whistling out of, the barrel of a gun
Every little shard; falling hard, and wet

Discarded and sent
To the dust cover floor

These shards, land in a spray 
Of the blood red whine

There they are, forever mixed
With all the “Grey Matter”; that was

All that mattered, to the decease man
Forever mingled; with blood, and red wine

Love that aged; too soon, upon the vine

                   by
Sinbad the Sailor Man