Abject Solitude Poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes

When all the sounds that fill the air die not,
And for a little rest, my ears do crave,
The joys of loneliness that I forgot,
In silence lie, the hallmark of the grave;
What little time for solitude is best,
In distant place, to hide and nurse my pride,
This put-on face will now be put to rest,
As virtue takes on over as my guide;
But what a price to pay for this good grace,
Will it be worth my while to gain the self
That once I lost as wager in that race,
To now display with trophies in the shelf?
………For here, at last is balm to heal a wound,
………But most of all, a refuge has been found.