This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Texas chapter.
I am born from the fruit of madness.
My distant relative claims to have twisted even Eve and Adam, but I know better
And I am revered.
Humans fashioned ancient gods out of my allure—
They tasted my gift of insanity and glut for more!
White like the sick,
Rosé like the rush of passion,
Red like their cheeks or the paint of their lips.
I laugh as they seek my caress late in the night,
Happy celebration or sad plight,
I savor each bitter and sweet with delight.
Answer:
Wine