In Sonnation of the Gin Martini

Martini, you say, shaken cold
Sapphire’s the best no vermouth three olives
Don’t bruise the gin advice that’s never old
Let the strained herbs and berries soothe, forgive
Where others cannot speak of your ill deeds
Where memories cause downward glance and shake
Like a drink the pictures from your rev’ries
Where time and pain cannot your choice unmake.
So here you stand your glass in hand searching
For resolution here at church of gin,
and tonic pray, beg, hope that they forgive
you. Yet the morn brings no relief from sin
Will you find your way out this time or will
You seek the same old gin tired way still?