In the quiet hours of the night,
When the world is lost in dreams,
A bottle whispers empty promises,
And steals away our screams.
Once vibrant souls now shadowed,
By liquid fire’s embrace,
Dreams dissolve in amber pools,
Leaving but a trace.
Hearts once full of laughter,
Now drown in sorrow’s sea,
The silent thief of time and joy,
With no chance to break free.
Yet in the dawn’s first light,
Hope whispers soft and clear,
Break the chains of liquid lies,
And find a path sincere.