Alone
When the last of daylight fades,
and thoughts of you do muster, jade
so endless, like a fool's parade
is gratified with its tirade!
Some voiceless hurt sleeps for its aid,
for sooner than the eyes do close
and longer than a statues pose
thy absence nettles its enclose.
That senseless boundary expose
its vile urging, ever stows
as if a curse without thee knows
that pain, and sentences its dross.
This loveless world, of self consoles,
while thee and I, forgotten prose
lie in some verse in heaven's throne -
The soul, the soul... finds Hell, alone!
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