vespers

little wine for the stomach
and high life for my head
blue light illumines
yet another unscripted death

unraveled ambition
just add it to the cost
of tilting at windmills
while wishing you were lost

God, to be a postulant
partially cloistered, pale white head
deep solitary intercession
miles removed from the dead

but here i sit among the dying
praying and pleading for mere life
thought and doubt diffusing
as day surrenders to night