It leaves its handprints on all that I see,
and tarnishes all I touch with poison
Feeds depression like a maggot, to deepen
this cursed mire that is my place to be
It snatches my thoughts away from all glee,
and I wish I would vanish, be hidden
And alone long for a secret Eden,
for a decade it has tormented me
It told me: ”You will never have a hand
to hold, nor starry eyes to madly love
Alone you'll stay, you're too broken, cautious
Your spirit forever burns with my brand,
there will be no olive branch, no sweet dove”
Thus spoke the cold, dead void called Loneliness
Written sometime in October 2016 after an all-encompassing, amazingly crushing sensation of loneliness.
