Bottle of Amber Fire

Broken soul lost at the bottom
Of a bottle full of amber fire
Seduced by the promise of oblivion
Where pain is a memory, time a reckless liar

Crumpled by the cracked and weathered birdbath
In the centre of the gardens of lost humanity
Both have seen much better days before
But the bottle of amber fire hides the truth of misery

As weary eyes open to the pain, escaped so briefly
The bottle of amber fire sings her siren song of grace
A lullaby to woo broken souls to submit to her warmth
Whispering false hopes of freedom to be found in her embrace

Drowning lost and broken souls within her fiery depths
Enthralling her victims, one piece of their heart at a time
Losing their minds and liberty for a brief glimpse of paradise
At the bottom of her bottle full of amber fire, they lay, supine

Cracked and weathered like the ancient birdbath
Where the winged now fear to come
The broken soul clutches the shattered glass
And wonders how it had all begun

But tears of shame and mourning for a life passed by
Can’t chase away the demons like the bottle of amber fire
The broken and the lost have slowly succumbed
Now only the promise of continued oblivion can fulfill desire

© Alison Pearce 2008

Bottle of Amber Fire

Alison Pearce

Logan Central, Australia

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