Dear No One--

Dear No One, In sorrow am I. Let live have I, this forever-long lie; Of love. No love. Fallen have I too many a time; Have I been left lain on cold grounds; Never lent in retrospect Not hand, nor solemn sound; In love. Like love; Just, as it is. Let be now; let me be. Tortured soul, yet; shown no greed In turn; your turn. Return; Do you. Quite inevitably, yet; Never composed; Such Beetovenic statures. Such expected; appreciated, not. Guilty am I. Faulty am I; Nevermore; in such that is blinded; By the sickeningly sweet scents of failure; And love; is but a dream, so I’ve come to collect. Though, collected have I but nothing For soil is nothing which drips through holes in hands; For hands, naught be. Never were; could not you see? Blind are you; and I. I am nothing. Dear No One, It is I: No One.