Forlorn Lover

I see you everywhere. I see your face on all paintings. You are in every song and even birds now tweet your name. Every prose tells our story and I hear your voice in the lines of all poetry.

So I pile these books and reduce them to debris. So now, I dread poetry and my pen flows not, in fear that it may, your name, write. You are the death of my Art.

Yet, you linger.

Tell me, how did you become Air?

#TheForlornLover