Winedrunk
The end of our dreams
flow in shattered discord
like a wineglass overturned
In our fruitless searches
bereavement impales
as we pour the bottle on the floor
Watching each drop
collect and pool
swirling in bitter waves
Our tongues are stained
with that sweet taste
rose tinted
with hints of sage
and as our spirits rise
from a body so fine
they will pour us in our graves
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