Alone Poem by Ibn Ali

Sometimes I love to be left alone,
Drown my sorrow in these poems,
It's like therapy,
Every stanza gives me energy,
Only child,
Does that make me a lonely child, hermit, or recluse?
Because I find solace in solitude,
I hear the thoughts forming like a cloud of bees, swarming,
The sound alone is enough to befuddle you,
Dark moods in bright lit rooms,
Devils with pretty faces,
Silver tongued merchants make souls their trading places,
And all I see is empty spaces,
Places where love has vacated,
Friendships faded,
The premature death of relations,
I've only my shadow for company,
Hushed tones from poisoned tongues,
I hear them whispering, somberly,
I feel their presence looming,
Somewhat short and subtle movements,
It's unnerving,
These incognisant murmurs,
So I pray that God removes it,
Strengthens what's beneath the surface,
Big hearts make big targets,
Marksmen take aim, knowing those closest hit hardest,
Keep them at a distance,
Persistence scarce tires,
They'll shoot when in range,
And many die from friendly fire,
Trust could be the death of you,
Not every smile's sincere,
Not every gift is generous,
Not every friend is true,
Nor every enemy disingenuous,
Never shared my mothers womb,
And my grave no more spacious,
I was born alone,
So I'll leave the world as I came in