Thank you for your sorrow

Such waste,

so much beauty;

boughs heavy with useless fruit in autumn,

when all are locked out,

facing a shut gate;

the way is shut.

Fixed, held fast by promise

Why draw breath?

Why want?

Desire is only one want

for one union,

there is nothing else.

So I am transfixed by pinpoints of light,

here where there is only emptiness.

For beauty any sacrifice is acceptable.

Hence the broken heart,

wasted as it is on the broken.

Thank you for your sorrow.