Love's Empty Songs Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Tapping to the staccato beats of a lonely song, calling to my heart.
Knowing it's being wrapped in sadness throughout life, trying to reawaken the voice that fell silent one day in past mournings.
Nothing to talk about or relate to anyone, it's just settled into a daily routine of lonely participation.
Nothing going on in earthly desires on our timid shores of love, all ending in empty songs, never being sung by anyone except bereaved poets in echoing hallways of never returning happiness.
Placing all thoughts in vats beneath the cellar.