Last toast to love.

I'm raising an empty glass
With stains of our tears,
No wine - no fire - just useless fuss
Weaven by empty fears.

Our fears of loosing fading lust.
But others had better fortune?!
Are they elated by frenzied gust
In whirlwind of carnal torture?

Maybe the key - is awfully simple
Just how it was for the parents
Growing together, raising children
Habit, Tradition, Marriage

No, I can not, it's too late for me
I've had a taste - of different feeling
It did not quench, it was not sweet,
Powerful, nasty, thrilling

Now wanton addiction - embedded too deep
always looking - for fresh - dosage
Can your luscious body - quench my greed?
Is your soul - worth of sleepless worship?

Yet again - I will choose - to stay alone
In the crowd of friends and lovers
Travel light and let - bygones be bygones
Constantly feeding off peril desires

So I finished my toast, and I step on a glass,
Always free - to roam - my quarters
walk the aile, say my vows - plant trees or birth sons
Or just fall in abyss of transgression