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Poem
The saddest lines begin tonight, with a lone soul 
Bare but for the thin veil of a pale white moonlight,
Beside myself, and taxed upon deep reflection,
For the night is starry, and my empty cup has fallen -
Shattered glass refracting even more of the stellar sky,
Mapping out the universe from THE single static point -
That is to say, finding myself amidst all creation
With nothing but time, and the realization
That I am alone.  And I cannot move on, for you are
Not with me.

On a night such as this, our story had taken root
And had blossomed from its simple magical beginnings, 
And tonight, I write my saddest lines simply
Because stories have their endings.

I remember, in nights like these
We have held on each other's arms,
That you have loved me once,
How the tenderness of your eyes radiated even from
The darkness that follows each day,
How your touch told me that you were here to stay,
How you whispered to my ear,
I was all you'd ever need;
And in my arms, I have always loved you,
And In my arms, I could have never loved you more,
Yet oh swiftly, from these arms, did you walk out that door.
The night grows colder as I bask upon the curse of your memory,
The night grows colder as I lie in fear of my forgetting.
Still, we have changed. Still, I feel the same.

You will be another's, perhaps, you are another's, 
You are away, and your love has lost itself in the distance,  
Will you be back? I've spent many sleepless nights like this one,
Begrudging the self-same sweet mendacities of your love
Which fuel the hope of your return to my arms once again.
I lie awake and waiting as the soil waits for rain,
And each day I find that you are no longer with me,
And each day I am left barren and emptied by your apathy.

(Darling, how could it be that you've once loved me?)

Tonight, I wish to say: 
That I will not love you,
That I will forget you and grow better,
That I will be strong, I will move on,

But tonight, I write the saddest lines:
You still are, 
For some reason or another,
The love of my life.

(This love is the bane of my each and every night) 

I write all of these, my darling, my beloved,
Simply because you were my everything,
And simply because you've gone,
And I pen it all to you
Because the lines burst from the well spring of my tears,
For when you have left me my love, my true...
You have simply left me with nothing else.
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