He stumbles into his room

The wild after party has left his head spinning

Glass in hand and head in the clouds

He enjoys the fruit of his own labor

Loving every taste of the perfectly crafted dark-red 

Or white or rose drink

Champagne if he’s celebrating though it seems he always is

He smiles at everyone who comes near

A happy intoxication quite rarely a sad or angry one

They see it as an addiction

He sees it as a more colorful world

Tell him it’s bad for him yet he does not care

he would not give it up for the Love of his God

It makes him more alive throughout even old age

For Dionysus wine is a passion to him it creates a lust for life