Live by the bottle, die by the bottle, The corpse of the drunk lays and rots til, Someone finds and ponders his life,And finds that he had a beautiful wife.or that she lived in strife, Hoping to change through fate or knife. For whatever the reason the poison did lend, A hand more welcome than family or friend. For it was a poison that rocked the mind, Soothing, yet harsh, revealing their blind, Eyes to see that it would crumble, As easily as the storm clouds do rumble. The poison beckons and takes it away,Allowing the heart of the victim to decay, It becomes all they see, all they smell,Casting all love to the pits of hell. Dark yet bright in the sun, Fighting, the victim should run.