As Lonely As A Poet....

As lonely as a poet,
Without a Muse to call,
A lady I shall love.
Lost in seas of ghosts,
and sunsets filled with black ink,
For I find no light,
In a darkness that is more bright.

Shallow pools of tears,
and my heart's spilling fears.
Masks are upon my face,
Twisted and yet not broken,
as is the poison in this place.
What am I but death's eye,
and a wraith of sorrow's delight?

Wilted rose kiss,
to purge of bloody blades,
that only seem to miss.
Empty as a split canopic jar,
and painful as Romeo's scar,
With swords unsheathed from violet scabbards,
do Goddesses hate me so?

As darkened as an angel,
With a missing wing.
There are no swallows,
here on lily branches to sing.
A song for love,
songs of fiery ruby hands,
Hexed with used hourglass sands.

As lonely as a poet,
Behind walls of fallen faith.
No quill, no ink,
not a scroll of birch to scathe.
Where in lands do I,
show my heart's desires,
When there is no diamonds in my sky?