Loneliness Poem by Roger A. Rose

Blow you wicked, merciless wind.
Whip mind clouds to a murky froth.
Bring on the evil tempest of despair.
Drive on the surly, turmoiled broth,
Sour contemplation of life lived solitaire.

The terrible silence of these lonely rooms,
Makes my heart ache and sustenance spurn.
One night without My love is eternity.
What would life be if she’d not return?
Imagination, deep anguish thought not lightly.

Return’d not and I shall surely die inside.
These shrinking walls will press my hungry flesh
And the sunshine will lose it’s power.
Return’d home and life’s breeze blows fresh
And the gardens again will beautifly flower.

(1998)