Sadness suits you, telling your story
by the candle’s quivering light
drinking the fruit of the vine
a cloak of panacea for the soul.
The wine, blushing your cheeks
staining your pouting lips
Your tears, falling like acid rain
taints the full-bodied elixir
with your somber melancholy
banishing the mellow glow.
You speak of loves lost, what remains
with certainty the losing of hope
drowning sorrows in self-pity’s drink
as you watch the flame flicker and die.