A day will come when I'm truly old
My skin shrivelling, my feet still firm.
I will all but disappear from public memory
My greys having taken over decades ago.

You'll find me in a tavern
In the coldest place on earth
One could possibly fathom
Drinking the rest of my life, one draught a time.

There's a beer and a vacant chair beside me
If you wish, you could be the occupant
Drink it up in silence
And I'd keep them coming until I'd had enough.

Do not ask of me my friend
One day I too will be long gone
Perhaps the vacant chair and the beer still await
Perhaps they will not.

- A.Jayakumar