As the night grows ever darker,
and stars drift off beneath the silent veil,
in a quiet corner of the bar, I sit alone,
with solitude my only company, my heart grown frail.
Sip by sip, warmth seeps in,
dissolving burdens, dulling the ache inside.
In its bitter taste, a hint of sweetness begins,
embracing wounds that never subside.
Only whisky brings me peace,
when words no longer suffice.
It dances in my veins, guiding me home
to a place where silence becomes solace.
And as the night quietly slips away,
until the glass is empty, and I drift to sleep,
only whisky remains, a silent stay,
carrying me far from sorrows I keep.
