Soul For A Bottle Poem by Dechen Doma Sherpa

Empty rooms with his babies crying in fear
His sickening scent lingering on the stale air
Torn pictures of him and broken glasses strewn on floor
The door still open after hours he walked away

She lay there still and tired of cleaning up after him
No memories to haunt, no dreams to chase just gazing at emptiness
The children have quieten down and probably cried to sleep
While she immobile in body and thoughts listens to the silence

Too late for the bed, too early for sunrise she waits for dawn
Like a ghost rising from the dead body she drags herself up
Sometimes death is not an option so she drinks her Soul away
Years and tears in glass after glass till she drinks her soul away