He was drinking

As the brim of the holder flowed such as a 

sea 

He, believed from his dry tone, down, 

it must be

He was drinking.

As the moonlight brightened

it was obvious 

He, believed right then. 

He was drinking.

No, it cant be, No, it will not be

He was drinking.

How can this be 

reality

He was drinking.

The cross on his chest 

fried

Eyes burning from its 

clove

He was drinking.

Where shall he 

go

What is called 

home...

He was drinking.