Dear No One--
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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.