My love is burning evermore.
My love breathes ashes in the air.
She is the closest I abhor.

She is Despair.

My love is longingly ignored.
My love, she answers with a stare.
She is a cost I must afford.

She is Despair.

My love is pulsing with desire.
My love is anxious, unaware.
She is but one voice in a choir.

She is Despair.

"My love," I'm asking, "are you scared?"
My love is shaking, broken, bare.
She is forgiveness scarcely shared.

She is Despair.