THE CACOPHONY OF ABSTAINING LOQUACITY
The page, strewn with all the leftover
Nothing he could pen, now lay undisturbed.
It was written for her, and when
Completed his nonexistent soul
And riven heart called
Out with great rapture.
Behold, a masterpiece!
All the while his eyes
Poured droplets of futility,
As his body convulsed
Losing for a moment the numbness.
The masterpiece lay the infinite passion,
For it would not have been created,
Not because she had gone, but if only he
Had told her.