All assertions.
Are defeated by time.
And yes, there has always been
more meaning in what's left untouched.
The passing time does turn to dust
amid my solitary and loveless nights.
Such lack of touch still leaves me yearning,
For sleep to remove me from my plight,
with a subtle singing of liquid sighs,
Reflecting loves lake with lonely skies.
Silent I remain, forced to abstain,
From those human pleasures of life,
That most basic need of human touch.