loneliness

Loneliness

I thought that solitude was pain,

the cruelest fate a heart could know;

yet worse it is to stand beside

a soul whose warmth refuses to show.

For one may dwell in silent night

and still the spirit may remain,

but loving one whose heart is gone

is but a deeper, sharper pain.

I see myself upon a platform,

a lonely station veiled in grey;

my train arrives before my eyes,

yet slips from me and fades away.

I watch it vanish down the rails,

as dreams depart beyond my sight,

and I remain where echoes dwell

between the silence and the night.

Within the chamber of my soul

there stands a wall both frail and worn;

each passing day the creeping mold

makes weaker what was once reborn.

It seems as though it soon shall fall,

a crumbling guard of heart and breath—

for even walls once built with hope

may slowly yield themselves to death.

Still would I keep illusion near,

yet all my love grows faint and small;

a hollow silence lives within

and softly tears my heart in all.

Thou hast departed, left me here

where shadows quietly remain—

and in thy wake thou gav’st my soul

a vast and endless void of pain

DK My Poetry