The tears they fall,
My eyes are wet,
I wish to god,
I could forget.
I shame myself,
though action or deed,
of excessive want,
and my lack of need.
Cold light pours through,
the skylight above,
A blissful white,
I've had enough.
An Empty Bed,
No love to give,
No warmth to share,
nor will to live.
My heart has died,
my soul has shattered,
everything's gone,
all that mattered.
Slumber is near,
but embrace it I will not,
for when I sleep,
Nightmares are fought.
What is left,
for me to lose,
except fanciful wish,
or passionate muse.
The tears they fall,
my eyes are wet,
I wish to god,
I could forget.
