On a desk, a bottle stood, With a label clear and bold, "Drink me," it enticingly said, In letters bright as gold.
But beneath, a note lay still, Stained with crimson, dark and stark, "Do not drink," it warned with dread, A message from the dark.
The bottle gleamed with mystery, A promise or a curse, The note, a silent guardian, Of fate, for better or worse.
Temptation and a warning, In a dance of life and death, A choice that teeters on the edge, With every cautious breath.
What secrets does the bottle hold? What dangers lie within? The note, a bloody testament, To battles lost and sin.
So heed the words, both bright and dark, In this tale of caution spun, For sometimes what we yearn to grasp, Is best left undone.
