I used to wonder, used to judge,
How lives unravel, how souls begrudge,
How bottles cradle shattered dreams,
And promises fade like distant screams.

Whiskey was a word I spoke
With distant pity, a careless joke,
"Why not fight?" I'd boldly say,
But now I see how hope can fray.

Life rushes in, swift as a flood,
Dreams turned to dust, hearts bruised with blood.
I’ve seen the years slip through their hands,
Plans abandoned like drifting sands.

I don’t seek whiskey's cold embrace,
But now I see the tender space
Where some give in, where strength subsides,
Where the light dims and courage hides.

I used to judge the broken years,
The quiet falls, the stifled tears,
Those who reach their twilight days
With tangled paths and unhealed frays.

But now I know—how life can bend,
How even giants break and bend,
It’s not the weakness I once scorned,
But silent battles left unmourned.

Yet still, I rise, though skies grow dim,
With heavy heart and trembling limb,
To chase the stars, to stand my ground,
To seek the dreams that still resound.

I understand why some give in,
Why whiskey calls beneath the din,
But I’ll face the storms that scar the land,
No whiskey in this steady hand.

For I have learned the weight they bear,
The silent grief, the whispered prayer,
And though I walk through nights untamed,
I’ll keep my fire, unashamed.