Strangers around me, laughing, feral,
Give me a chalice tasting of their toxin,
A poison, elixir of misery
A delicate glass inundated with small flurries.

"Is your glass half full
Or half hollow?"

My glass is cracked and sharp,
my lip cut on broken glass.

In my cold hand,
Red trails interlace with golden gleam.

At Last, I have tasted
Blood Champagne.