In the depths of night, whispers call,
A siren’s song from the bottle’s fall.
Promises of solace, sweet and deep,
In liquid dreams where sorrows sleep.

Yet morning breaks with heavy chains,
A cycle of relief entwined with pains.
The glass, a mirror to the soul’s plea,
Reflecting a captive yearning to be free.

Shadows dance in the twilight’s embrace,
A fleeting comfort, a relentless chase.
The heart knows what the mind denies,
In every sip, the silence cries.

But hope remains, a distant light,
A whispering promise through the night.
Courage to face the dawn anew,
To break the chains, and find the true.