Chalice

So is it a dream - we’re not supposed be spoiled 

this way; to a bottle of rum there’s more than the 

idea its possible, tho’ whichever way you sip this 

full chalice of reminiscing there will be returns to 

those moments again - your heroes never leave 

the battle field and the dead go on living - we’ve 

come to an arrangement on that, it means what 

we covertly want without being too sacrosanct 

So in less than a heartbeat we make atonement,  

its never too far away from the edge of an abyss 

and in surviving it, imparted duty stays trenchant 

we’ll be true to its letter, another sip of rum says 

we’ve passed with good grace; the memories of 

better times displace all those basal anxieties 

© 12 November 2015, I. D. Carswell