…my abject desperation, my devastation

I try to disguise my abject desperation, my devastation
but my heart is frantically beating like a thousand drums
calling to me from the deep depths within my desolation
I know that I am currently teetering, upon the edge of endings
but in the moment, I cannot look down and I cannot look up
and trembling, I stand here completely alone, my eyes unblinking
stoically staring straight ahead into the vast, vast emptiness
where love and I once lived and where loss now relentlessly stalks me
in every corner and every shadow of my rapidly shrinking universe
I think of love as a night dweller, always a creature of the dark
darkness, its real home, where it practices the secrets of its true art
the dark art of devastation, poorly disguised in a summer dress
and all the while, winters’ sibilant whispers, are circling in my soul
misery is my constant companion, uninvited, but always steadfast
images of you, once bright and clear, slowly fading day after day
I have questions, so many questions, but I have no answers at all
and my poor heart, broken, is desperately trying to rewrite the past
but my soul is constantly wrestling with my heart, in strong opposition
wanting to to keep the light of a candle burning in the endless dark
where if it is still searching, the ghost of you can still find me
© Ann Bagnall