Sonnet

So here is the sonnet I wrote...

I've fallen from the saving light of day
In dismal deep, my feeling's fallen short
Now numb I sit, awaiting slow decay
A mocking drink serves steward to my sport.
The liquid's bitter with the taste of ash,
With every sip, another shard of glass
That cuts my tongue and leaves a telling lash.
Oh heart, don't fear the cuts to come to pass
For surely there is still a ways to fall.
And though this drink goes down with burning ache,
There's one more cup, most bitter of them all.
Though prone to doubt, with fear about to break,
Take, heart, this cup will prove they saving grace,
and let the holder lift your weary face.