How strange it seems that still my heart should yearn,
For those beside me, whom I seek, and spurn.

I ask of them from those who cross my sight,
Though they walk with me, like shadows in the light.

My eyes pursue them, though they're close at hand,
As if their nearness slips like grains of sand.

They dwell within the blackness of my eyes,
Yet still, in longing, every heartbeat sighs.

My heart aches for them, though they're near to stay,
So close to my ribs, yet they drift away.

In every breath, their absence burns anew,
They are my presence, yet I bid adieu.

What spell bewitches so the soul to pine,
For company that's here, yet lost in time?

Within my core, their essence does reside,
Yet longing forms, an ache I cannot hide.

Strange fate! To feel such yearning’s endless plight,
To hold them close, yet miss them out of sight.

For though their presence graces my embrace,
My soul still chases what it cannot trace.