Wine and Sorrow

Like  splattered paints on the rugged floor
Deep with color, dull though art
The sky turned dark and so his mood
From lonesome pain to fearsome sore
In thoughts of love and hearts apart
Moaned his soul in doleful brood.

In a candle-lit corner stiff he sat
Starring his copy on bottles shown
The wrinkled lips in his frozen thoughts
Sunk his jaws in distant wait.
Conscience fell like a breaking bone
Wrestling his breath for the losing bouts.

The ale was but an emotional cage
Buried were pains yet scars abare,
The wrinkle lines were painted red
With wine borne sorrows adding rage.
He stood with head bent above fear
And took his way his trembling feet led.