In the amber glow of twilight’s embrace,
Lies a glass filled with liquid grace.
Each drop a whisper, a tale untold,
Of nights once warm, now distant and cold.

The bottle sings a siren’s song,
Promising solace where hearts belong.
Yet in its depths, shadows reside,
A fleeting comfort where sorrows hide.

Memories dance in the flicker of light,
Faces and places blurred in the night.
But morning brings a stark, harsh glare,
Revealing truths too heavy to bear.

So here we stand at twilight’s end,
With lessons learned and wounds to mend.
The bottle’s whisper fades away,
As dawn ushers in a brand new day.