Alone Poem by Arwen Undomiel

And I wait...
Still I wait.
Waiting for something,
But there really isn’t anything.
The cold grows darker still.
And waiting seems forever.
Remembering the past
And forgetting the future,
I seem to grow numb.
...but I’m still here.
I begin to worry.
The aching feeling inside my desires telling me no.
I move.
I am liquid – floating in the dark.
Relentless is my heart;
How it continues to torture me.
Taunting and begging,
Tugging and crying.
I couldn’t care less.
Everything has been numb,
Forever.
I sit here and wait.
Waiting for something,
But there really isn’t anything.
I fade.
I cry.
I die.

Alone.