LAST SUPPER WITH EDDYFLAMES
THE BET (THE CONCLUSION) … I climbed the stairs ploddingly, still no clue of how to set things straight, Unlike Mandela, I am on a long work to redemption, I slowly turned the door knob, As I was about to speak, she gentle asked me to seat, I placed my butt gentle on the chair, Like I was on a land mine, Observing the whole scenario, I noticed a bottle of Cabernet on her hand. A wine glass, her phone, and a cutlery knife on a table, A packed up suit case by the door, The glass shows, she’s had a couple of pours. Her phone, I guess she has made several calls, The suit case, wondering whose belongings are in there (hers or mine), The knife! Why is there a knife? I know she isn’t temperamental or suicidal, Deep down she’s battling a war of words inside her, Biting her lips and taking a deep breath, She stares at me, calls my name in full … EDWARD. You know this wine was meant for my promotion, I want you to have that in mind. So Edward! ...