Soft the Hours all are Drifting,
Too Quiet, They, In Passing Be,
While I, in Languid Subterfuge,
Hide Not my Friendless Misery.
Shades of Colour Meld and Merge
Like Sorrow Melting Upon the Day;
Blank and Pale in Brightest Sun
Where Once Our Joy, Like Children, Played.
Now You’re Gone, As Stars of Night,
And Shapeless Pass These Stolid Hours;
Unfettered, Yet I Stand, Perplexed,
Having Lost Youth’s Blushing, Vibrant Flowers.

Beautiful Original Artwork by: Perla Marina at


      1. She does. Beauty does not alleviate loneliness. It may, in fact, magnify it. Attracting company, but not companionship. The greatest of us are plagued ever by the search for more.


Having Perused, Let Your Thoughts Show; and in Receiving them, Thank You Ever So!

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