Bartender

Blood leapt from his arteries

Arrowheads crafted from brimstone and sulphur
Threatened to drink the moisture of my marrows-
The sour taste of thirst perched atop my tongue-
Dark paints painted the walls of my heart sable as
The heart of mourners bereaved of a love-light-
Water dwelt not amply sweet to douse my thirst-
It dwelt not clean enough to clean darkness
That clave my heart with arms made in inferno-

In bid to rinse darkness that embraced my heart,
Comrades from coasts of my birth, birds whose
Feathers had same hue as mine took me to bars,
Bars blessed with nude nymphs and neon-lights
But the bar nearest my abode, an old rugged bar,
Its bartender knocked we patronize him but nay
Comrades hated the old rugged wine bar greatly-

We swarm into nights, rolled down ribs of rocks-
So we went to bars blessed with nudes and gins
Liquor and wine jugged down my throat like
Legions with banners set to slay the depression
But rather than slay the foe, they added paint
To depression’s art, painting my heart darker-

With wilted gain from bars attired with nudes,
With dying eyelids sitting firm atop my visage,
Death vowed to throw an unerring fist at me-
In fear I heeded to taste wine of the bartender
Who dwells closest to my soul not patronized
Yet knocks on the door of my conscience-
I hoped perchance to find salvation in his bar-

Rather than receive wine from the bartender
‘Twas a blood-tonic he fed my thirsty tongue-
Blood from his arteries leapt into a fated cup,
I sipped his blood, got high in the Holy-ghost-
My lips spoke tongues strange to mortal ears,
The dark paint on my heart was rinsed away,
My dying eyelids waltzed merrily once more-

When my joy was brimming, my tongue sate,
I turned to pay for the blood-tonic I downed
But nay the bartender said “already paid for”-
Then I knew the bar is the old rugged cross
The bartender, the King who hung on it
And told depression “It Is Finished”-

(c) Oghenekome Eterigho.
Picture courtesy Pixabay