The drunkard’s babel
Don’t call me a drunkard; I drink to be honest
The world kills the candid men; you either lie or die
Spirits make us blurt out the harshest of the bitter truths
Hence listen, sober fools
Often the protagonist and the hero of a tale are different
The protagonist is destined to be, but to be a hero is a
matter of choice
The protagonist shoulders the responsibility because the
hero bears the burden
The protagonist was because the heroes rose
Sadly, the heroes are forgotten as the legends are propagated
No one knows which is inherent and which you absorbed over
the years
Tales are a grotesque mixture of innocence and vile
astuteness
They now spread rigor mortis slowly into inspiration
Should I fight or should I love the death of the spirit
The answer glows as the warmth spreads
Leave the coils and be a free soul eternally
And hence I drink and strive to peel off the layers to
reveal the reality
Don’t call me drunkard; I drink to understand humanity
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