Infidelis

The fruit of creation
the grapes of bounty
wither and die
hanging from this
tethering vine
where life once sprung
from green earth
in torrents of beauty
seemingly without end

Toast no living soul
with this wine
bitter and malnurtured;
tear drops
falling into a dead sea
called Lake Perdition

Toast only the light
that delivers all to
the loving arms of night
free from this vine
that tethers and poisons
the fruit it bears
ignorant
indifferent
infidelis
to every desire
hope or wish
to live one day longer
than the hour of the end