These stars look down at me from their heavenly throne
they hear my lonely heart and its low mournful groans
they pity me, solitary on these vast rolling plains
The familiar aches start as I whisper your name

You are not gone forever, only a period of time
but without your love, how does my spirit I still shine?
So for now it is the stars and I that talk
conversing about you throughout the night as I walk
Bittersweet memories strike me like arrows poison-laced
as I remember your voice, your touch and your face

Why am I like this! Sick with love every time you go away
when there is no happiness in the moon or sun’s rays
Are you thinking of me this night as I think of you?
Do you look up into the sky meditating on dark hues?
Cold winds start to blow, and my blankets bring me heat
but it is not your warmth, and it is your warmth I need

Of course I will go on, doing the things I need to do
performing the daily tasks; the grind I go through
I walk back inside, no sounds but the tap of my shoes
It will be hard to slumber because…*sigh*, I miss you

But isn’t it great to be all alone?
to be isolated, to never be known
never an arm to carress your back
to fortify the strength you so often lack
You make your own hopes, future and plans
living by wits, never needing a hand
knowing yourself both inside and out
self-reliance is what I’m talking about!
no companion in the darkest of nights
no one to share victory at the end of the fight
you can live in darkness, who needs the light?
you need no shoulder to hold in lovely twilight
when everyone else grabs their lover’s hand
it is desolate, unaided and solitary you stand
starved of affection, emotionally skin and bones
I say, isn’t it great to be all alone?

I stand alone, mighty and strong
with a deep-felth expression wistful and long
thinking I’d rather be bent, decrepid and weak
so I could find this elusive companion I seek
I once had this friend, but that is the past
those feelings of affection never do last
they burn as fire on a lighted candle wick
strong at first, but at end dead and sick
they are hurricane forces! blasts of passion
but they all blow over, in a timely fashion
but maybe she will come again, perhaps in another person
so she can reject me, so my situation will worsen
so ironic and fickle is the human emotion!
so often lacking honor, trust and devotion!
so I withdraw in myself, forming my shell
for though some may know me, none know me well
I go deep into myself, no one to disturb me
unfindable now, so no one can hurt me
I am my own company, as my joy starts to lessen
dwelling right here, in this lovely depression