Poem for my neon guitar consorts

Drifted in the depths of night- took to the grind of metal guitar & copper drums; coursing through destitute slums littered with neon liquer shops- twisted herb spliff dangling whilst lips furled laughter in surreal placidity. That was my reality unshakable untill serene faces of those close mouldered became weary & alienated or acquired despair. Death gripped those that could no longer continue, but even then those days were the best as we endured in tribute to those that couldn't. Most of them have withered and faded away- don't know how or why, but does it matter? All that does is them good days when naivety was bliss since now I've learned the score laughing in remembrance and hoping those still alive who stood with me then find wiser peace & good fortune in their future.