Weathering Temperament

That first slow sip
Of hell
In relieving stress
Is now, a drink of gods;
Long day's end
With golden hand
Drowning out temperament,
While young minds
Mend
Future dreaming, sleepless beds,
Giving way to bleeding bottles
And empty glass souls.....
Where sighs so heavy
They permeate days old stale air
Origami fold, 
Under unwashed blankets~of care.
Stewing,
On the plot of night's love
Or many to come thereafter;
Minds a haze
In much more wanted
Than needed ways,
Now....that sips are gulps
Gurgling in throat
Of not,
Unwanted taste
But putrid and pure liquid pleasure
Coursing crimson streams
Drowning a staggering fool
 Reshaped, a functional 
Head in the clouds.
A remedy for sleep
That undone damage
We shall reap to undo,
For now........
Slowly sipped
With drunkenless
Unquenchable thirst
Believed
The guilt and sin has surely
Been immersed.