John's Complaint

. for public domain Along a North Bay windowsill, lay parchments crumbled, void of script, a heart entombed with heartless feeling, no fitting place to lay Love's crypt. Bury Love with a sigh or a tear, wail out echoes through desolate canyons, haunt dark castles and chill woody glens, strike the souls of our errant companions. But silence Love without a word? The very thought is so absurd, it should be criminal! Twenty lashes! No. Thirty! --- Villain! BEAST! Life's poor imitation at least! This pretense of loss shows no love at all. Lost Love deserves a page so much better than poor lack of script in a blank crumbled letter.