Friar

My friar
My friend
Comes with bottles
Which hold scrolls of the unknown

Saying
Relax
And understand
Stop thinking,
Come drinking
To the fact that
We have each other

My Friar
Arrives with joy
Throughout the pain
Yet, pleased all the same
That there are these scrolls
Inside bottles
With wisdom
That can only be gained
From forgetting everything
That came before
The toast