Into

 Shall I translate loneliness? And respell its depths? Just so that it is nothing but me wholesome. And it is no longer a freight I behold. Just so that it floats in my veins And ooze out through my chafed wounds. Just so that it is alluring in crimson  Than somber in nonentity Just so that it exists in corporeal To walk across senility To scorn at the deceit And to glimmer at the defunct anecdote That was once divine.