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Sonnet 37
Will life inside this bottle rescue me,
From sorrow, shame, and Sin's seductive crown?
Though her river's release and relax me,
I dare to dream a day that I would drown.
Problems are puzzles, piece apart from peace,
And waterfalls of wine weaves worries wind...
Away as lust of her I love to lease,
Consuming happiness...a short-lived friend.
Shall moderation of my life concur,
Music without mourning my morbid health?
For days on days I drink thine depths of her,
And gray to grey I grow unguarded wealth.
To I my eye shall lie and I will eye,
Her rivers, never sober, never dry.
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