The Mission - A Sestina

I drink and drink and there is no assuaging

All the myriad tremors of the coming time.

Banish the thoughts that seek to destroy

My confidence necessary to survive

The incessant blows fate must deal.

Another bottle, my good man, for the road!

It is a drunk and solitary road

that no coffee or jail can be assuaging.

The bottle and I have made our deal.

And I’ll be sure to win this time.

It’s what must be done in order to survive.

God’s antiquated plans must I destroy?

Yes, His plans I must destroy!

The car, parked, I take another road:

This one is broken and difficult to survive,

despite all my peers’ condolences assuaging,

despite all my enemies’ ancient notions of time.

This is all and utmost that I can deal!

But the bottle reminds me about our deal

And the hurried pace and race to destroy

This Outworn Christian Ethic – I have no time

to find my conclusion on this dust-laden road

Though all my athiestic saints hurl platitudes assuaging

Pinning their hopes on me, that I may survive

the toils and punitive putations. I will survive

these and more securing my silent deal

And perhaps the alcohol assuaging

me of all the multitudinous numinous notions I must destroy

I bury my liquid bible in my vest and brave the road

that I hope to have completed in my time.

“There is no time,”

The stones with mouths declare, “to survive

this deadening and deadly road.

Fate dealt the hand, there is no other deal

due to you, vagrant traveler. Do you dare destroy

that divine modicum of man’s assuaging?

The road ended in due time

and the assuaging, comforts of faithful men I did survive

to deal out the Truth in lethal doses; to destroy the last reasonless ideal.