its fragrance borne by the gentle breeze,
a summon to the one gone years past.
the fire of youth now tempered steel,
and still, all it takes is one sip.
feral by nature this malaise,
the only succor be to give in.
drunk on memories of days past,
men turn to impetuous beings.
adventures relived and tales retold,
by the warm hearth of friends old.
sipping on the wines of summer,
adorned by the flowers of spring.
our halcyon days these be.
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