The Bottle’s Whisper
The glass glows amber in the night,
A promise soft, a fleeting light.
It calls with warmth, it soothes the pain,
Yet leaves behind a heavy chain.
Each sip a lie, a fleeting balm,
A storm disguised as fleeting calm.
The laughter fades, the silence grows,
The bottle knows what sorrow sows.
It steals the dawn, it dims the flame,
It whispers guilt, it shouts your name.
A friend that turns to foe with time,
A thief that robs both soul and mind.
But still within the darkest hour,
There lies a seed, a hidden power.
To break the glass, to choose the day,
To walk a path where hope holds sway.