Loneliness tastes like whiskey,
that pale yellow color, a sound of pour
as it goes down the glass,
you can hear it so clear as if, it's rain.

Oh! gulped in a second, this one without ice,
as it goes making electric currents within,
Burning sensations as it stir up that anxiety, with broken dreams, gloomy memories, hollow hopes, loss of love and then of friends who betrayed,
grief and guilt, it's all the same, either way,
As a pilot of isolation.

Loneliness tastes like the lost rhythm
as of this poetry, this uneasiness to end
or to go on, pinching your nerves,
as you stand on top, yes, of the building.

Dreamlike loop, playing,
melancholic tones, here to accompany you,
lyrics of your life, in reverse,
but nothing to remind you of happiness,
noises pacing the streets as if they know
what is to come,
my fate, they know it, Do they?

Listen, this air whispering, as i fall, off,
See, this endless empty street,
Feel, this blood pressure, pumping,
nerve-racking,
Taste, this blood, broken glasses,
and this, Moonlight.
Loneliness tastes like surrealism.

- shrivardhan