The hour is long and the darkness soul deep,
Utterly isolate in an ocean of souls,
Our tryst has become, by you, anulled,
Without you, bereft of my Heart's gold,
No more indulgence of my bliss,
No more imagining your luck's kiss,
But imagining still your lilting songs,
Which stir the air amidst tattling throngs,
Cleft in twain now, I bid thee farewell,
And pray you soar, not fathom hell.