Evening drinks

People bustling about,
A man sits in wait,
The drink-giver gives,
And joy begins to creep.

The sun shows no more,
A soft light now glows,
My longing subsides,
And yet thoughts still flow...

    What is love and why does it elude me?
    Where is truth and why am I blind to it?

Insatiable and yearning are my thoughts on these questions...

    Why am I plagued with a need to know, a need to explore?
    When does life just fade into retrospect?
    Am I a man who's ready for these answers?

Sorrow plagues the man who searches for real answers.