Poisened Wine

third poem.. practice, practice.. enjoy

Glanced over to the table,
Sitting there was a glass,
It was stable,
Something that couldn't pass,
Filled with a desire,
Of a greed and a passion,
Though it was a liar,
It wouldn't ration,
Only one sip,
And your gone,
One to the lip,
Taste is strong,
It passes through,
Shivering vein,
A nasty brew,
A blast of pain,
You realise,
You 're a fool,
It lies,
You missed the rule,
It may be fine,
But never drink from poisened wine.