Darkness begat his lonesome soul
For love did much make haste
To bid its lamenting leave.

Twas the fear of loss
That propelled this young lover's
Fall from Grace.

Maintenance and efforts to sustain
Were always his arrow's aim
But never nurturing emotion's evolution.

Afraid to lose love he did
And lost love he had
By no other hand but his own.

The Darkness that birthed his misery
The fear of what lay in future's hand
Had fated his fears to prophecy.

And in Love's apparent abandonment
Has Loneliness begat the darkness
Now seen in this poet's decree.