Imperative

The whirlwind of experience steals the breath of every soul
caught in the flux of a seeming eternity
that we discover to be finite.
The infinite scope of existence drowns such beautiful details
as these, that lay just beyond the facade of that cafe
where restless legs find serenity.
The dawn of our understanding is only beginning;
we are in the twilight of our own eternity
watching, waiting for these times
when all seems perfectly imperfect.
The hope derived of such hopeless endeavors, wrought
with the peril of glorious tragedy:
the timeless tale of man.

And as we search endlessly for salvation,
let us find it at the bottom of an empty glass,
glistening in the condensation of life's fleeting bliss.
To all, may the spoils of defeat be imparted.