Why? It’s Just like wine
that ends up as fine crime
the bliss of humanity
woven like a fantasy
thriving off our sanity

the purpose of such delicacy
soothes hearts that’s lonely
a quick escape that’s hazy.
tis’ the haven away from blood
all pain crumbled and crushed.

drunken fine liquor that spins
ripping the seals from shut off lips
orchestrating the dance within sin.
despite the silken binds
tis’ like an unbound wind
for heo holds onto the blood.

there’s no purpose in such delicacy
there’s no drunken dance conducted
there’s no illusion shining starstruck
why? wine’s just like Water
crisp, clear, and no sweeter.

though i find longing in the rosé
it’s nothing but just simple

dampness.
that fails to reach the mind and pride.