Alone

When the last of daylight fades, and thoughts of you do muster, jade so endless, like a fool's parade is gratified with its tirade! Some voiceless hurt sleeps for its aid, for sooner than the eyes do close and longer than a statues pose thy absence nettles its enclose. That senseless boundary expose its vile urging, ever stows as if a curse without thee knows that pain, and sentences its dross. This loveless world, of self consoles, while thee and I, forgotten prose lie in some verse in heaven's throne - The soul, the soul... finds Hell, alone!