By Vincent Valentine

A part of myself forever lost

And the life in me that was embossed

Deep into the passion of my ways

Now supplanted by the endlessness of lonely days

Lost is the hope of any kind of delight

Lost is the significance of existence and being

Now in endless being, lonely living… Lonely seeing

To you, O my loneliness, a sonnet:

Why must thy lonesome tyrant ways

Imprison my days and my loneliness beget

And I in the secluded darkness still remain as yet

And forevermore tortured by thy perilous confinement

When wilt thou be gone?

You, wretched, wretched fiend!

And now by thee, I wish no longer to abide

Run shalt I; yes run and hide

From thy lonely tortured tide

Cease to vex me! Take thyself from my soul wretch!

Forever, forever, down, down, down

Return to abyss were thou didst develop

To the pits of hell with you!

Where thou doth belong!