A century of drought
Hardly a single drop
Had put me into this misery
With no traces of hope
An absence that slithers
Down my desert throat
Like that of a cunning poison
Paralyzing every single nerve
With each tick of a clock
A dehydrated fool
Confined in a mental institution
Committing suicide is an honor
If a dropp of your expensive nature
Is what I get in return
In my dying seconds
Your sweetness relishes my tongue
Consuming this moment of intoxication
Lost in a bizaare of alcohol
And dying is such a bliss
If your one last drop
And my final breath
Collides into one sweet embrace.
Marie Joyce B. Negapatan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-last-drop-2/
