In dim-lit corners where whispers flow,
The golden liquid sways, a gentle glow,
Promises of solace in each tender sip,
A fleeting embrace, a midnight trip.

The bottle speaks in silent tongues,
A comfort sought by restless lungs,
Liquid courage in crystal guise,
A bittersweet tale, a web of lies.

With every pour, the world unwinds,
Unraveling truths that the heart binds,
Yet in the haze, a shadow looms,
A dance with echoes in empty rooms.

As dawn breaks through the foggy veil,
The spirits retreat, their whispers pale,
Leaving behind a silent plea,
In the depths of the glass, a search for me.