The drunken flecks upon my lips,
Form drops like milky emerald beads,
Mnemonics lost with every sip,
And prayers, to forget my love of he.

Our spirits danced in harmony,
As one heart, our passions thrived,
And oh! To think what I have done!
Now naught but my regret survives.

And so, I pour another glass,
And revel in the melody
Of liquor 'gainst the cup-- alas!
This drink shall be the end of me.

Great Fairy Green, my dearest friend,
I beg of thee to make it swift,
Cloud my mind and stall my pen;
Free my soul for Thoth to lift.

But Death, it seems this night is not
Compliant to my morbid whim,
So drink I must, though to drown I sought,
To banish reveries of him.

'Gainst tabletop, the bottle clinks,
And echoes 'til its voice is dim,
Like churchbells; With each gulp I think,
This venom is worth more than him.

Each verdant drip burns to the bone
Ravishing my frigid corpse,
And warms my body with its own,
As bland reality it warps

To a world where fancy's head is reared
With intoxicating intensity,
Giving birth to diamond tears
To the tinkling melody

Of liquor 'gainst the cup-- alas!
This drink shalt be the end of thee,
Farewell to you, my dearest friend,
My precious viridian fairy.

Despair takes hold as I've returned
To the point at which this eve began,
Lamenting a loss of affections true,
And the myriad aspects of a man

Whose love, more precious than life itself,
I held for a blink in time,
And whom, for a moment I had felt
That beautiful fairy had sublimed.

I wipe the sadness from my cheeks
As in elation I explode,
For the absence of absinthe it is that I weep,
But the pub lies just down the road.

But they do not carry my liquored treat;
The damnation of my evening ensues.
How is one to drown their sorrows
Sans a bottle of favourite booze?

Oh, to feel drink's pain again!
It's roughened touch so bittersweet!
So heady as to send me sprawling
As my mind betrays my feet

In much the way my heart did pause
When clasp of fear bound tight my hands
Mid-scribe in soulfelt declarations
Of fidelity's unend.

A caesura in my certainty,
Thrust forth my despondence to rend
My hand from that which I held dear,
His heart is now his own to tend.

And while forever I shall cherish
The supple touch of his lips to mine,
The truth dictates that I shall perish
Side by side with the emerald wine.

So let it be known that while love is sweet,
Mortals betray, they are destined to fall;
But never a truer love shall ye meet
Than the tender caress of alcohol.

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Sarapin, in the year 439 AF.