My Secret Companion

Pensive and woeful
in the abode of my thought,
a remedy for my malaise
often have I sought.

In the labyrinth of my muse,
desolate I wander.
fraught with passions ungovernable
my discontent I ponder.

From this journey when I return
disappointed and wearied,
my solitude takes me in her arms
and there I rest, from all sorrows ferried.

So tenderly she wipes my every tear.
softly she whispers in my ear:
“I” will always be here
You need not fear.

And now in the multitude of peopl

My solitude and I walk hand in hand.

The deafening silence torments me no longer

For my solitude speaks a language I understand.