Libertine, how I abhor you now.
Wastrel of youth, of all that was tender and good,
you lascivious bounder of beauty,
how I detested your weaknesses,
your wants, your needs,
although you have since gone over to those pastures
where peace will welcome you,
hardly earned and appreciated even less.
You thought of no one, least of all, yourself.
You had everything at your command
and threw it on a burning pile of ash, a pyre of reckoning,
deceitful and raging as though it was you who were wounded
(although you were, I’ll grant) -
yet, it was always you who thrust the dagger deep
into the heart of purity.
How very droll you were,
while every structure collapsed at your feet,
how very sanctimonious you could be
in your lurid disgust
of what was lovely and mild.
Yes, even now shall I castigate you for your clever chaos,
as I garner the wild wisdom of woe
you so strenuously rejected.
Even now, I will not miss your absent smiles;
they were not created for me,
nor for anything that would have mattered.
I shall remain angry and unforgiving until I throw
this last clump of unrequited dirt upon your uneasy grave
and walk quickly away from this place,
forgetting all I once believed.
Author's note:
Inspired by “The Libertine”, starring Johnny Depp -
This movie is the story of the Earl of Rochester, a 17th century poet
who drank himself to death. Watching it made me incredibly angry,
especially considering I lived with someone for nearly 14 years who did
precisely that. Even the movie "Leaving Las Vegas" made me infuriated.
Death by drinking is not as "pretty" or as "easy" as it may seem to the
casual onlooker, even considering the raw, naked truths exposed in
these films.
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