Loneliness Sat

Loneliness sat bathing 
in a pool of his own bitter tears. 
Surrounded by abandoned jetsam; 
the pieces of his own heart.
They were broken, flaked 
and caked in dirt and misery. 
His hollow eyes were disguised
by a crystalline film of misery. 
They sparkled like a diamond ring
on a dead man.  
He tried to speak, 
but so long had he been without conversation
he could only grunt, and nod wistfully. 

Oh that the icy blue necrosis lips
could once again feel the touch
of another pair. Plump, pink
and flushed with life. 

Oh that his body, stricken with mortis
could embrace its revivification 
via the electric touch of life
and love’s sweet, delicate hand. 

But no. Loneliness sat. 
Bathing in his own tears.