Solitude

A brief insight to a tragic lover's regards to loneliness.

In dreary night ere the morrow
When not a word is spoken,
Here resides inexorable sorrow
Upon which my heart is broken.

Though she once filled my day with sunlit bliss
And made my soul to sing.
No longer dost her lips seek my own to kiss,
Nor her hand to wear my ring.

Perhaps it is fate that hast brought me here,
To this place of bleak repress
Where only the moon in his lonely drear
Casts shadows of emptiness

And upon that sky where once shone my love,
Now not a single star does shine.
But woeful blackness haunts heaven above,
Under which no solace I find.