alone

Could it be just a passing thing…
This feeling inside… that once caused me to sing,
But now cold and empty, to every last strand of hope I cling…

Could it be just a silly thing…
That those actions I took to preserve that which I am still dreaming
But the reality of which leaves me grasping… at nothing.

Why did you once hold me, with such fervour and strength?
With such emotion and depth?
Or… was I merely mistaking what you were not thinking yourself?

Was I merely imagining that there was something… when in fact something was really only anything to my wanting self?

Last night, I could not feel you…
Even though I held you close.
Last night, as much as I needed you…
I knew it was someone else you wanted the most.

So love all I may, but that love is my own.
Because to you, I am nothing more than the fallen leaf, away by the wind, it is blown, alone.