Wicked Liquid

Wicked Liquid

This wicked liquid seems to be the solace that is tangible to me;
It is something that I can feel in my blood and my limbs.
It is not the answer, though, so I wait for some type of connection to a Higher Power of Authority;
I wait for someone who can guide me on the subject of insecurity and the desolate realms of humanness.
Wicked liquid plays with my brain and emotions.
It tells me I am relaxed now, but soon it fades and what I have to rely on is the invisible faith of the Lord for which I cannot see.
But I can feel it, the same way that I feel the wicked liquid, only it is different.
The Lord is more powerful and self sustaining, for soon the wicked liquid will fade, leaving me vulnerable to the ways of the world.
The Higher Power causes a drunkenness of a different caliber; one I can depend on; one that will not fade into the night, leaving me alone with the false characters of strength that is brought on by wicked liquid.
The Higher Power is not something I am accustomed to, and yet I reach clumsily for it, praying to hold it in my grasp.
Wicked liquid, you put me to sleep when my mind races with perpetual torture.
But Higher Power, You sustain the rest that I need; the rest that I need to conquer the false bravado of wicked liquid

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