This life floats through
without love - sans much to do.
What dries when lovers get their day?
What thrives when dreams fade away?
Found the center of the universe did my soul.
Spit back out newly shaped from it's black hole.
Fond, is all, is all, is all.
Friends fade when not clung to.
Hands not kept will all fall through.
Perish whining winds of stale advice.
Frankly, I fear this time, these days of ice.
Deeply lonely felt - the path as was dealt.
Resent the happy tortures of those times
Bury the days now trod in pointless rhymes.
