To whom do I owe this grim despair?

Myself for things that seem foretold

If love gives life hath I no air

A yielding heart and blood run cold

Some nights I lie awake and dream

Constructing us as I see fit

should it collapse then I might leave

and start anew with less the risk

but trapped am I when thoughts abound

my vessel consumed, shakes and writhes

the fact remains you’re not around

thus I must craft a cunning guise

what means hath I to reach this end

for you I long to see again