Devil's Brew

Black and foul,
With steaming taint,
The liquid in my mug

Offends me much.
It's taste is such
It brings to mind a slug

Whose slimy trail
Does now entail
To gather at my lips.

It makes me ill,
This swirling swill
I drink with grueling sips,

This fetid funk
This juice of skunk
That doth insult my tongue.

A troll's pit sweat
Or closer yet
The essence of dog dung

Or toxic waste
Would better taste
Than this revolting brew,

And yet, alas,
I'm such an ass.

To go without won't do.