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The Closing Door.

In stemming absence I've toiled my hearts.
My Despair the pieces, mismatched, enthwarts.
What hearts so many did your personage sow?
What many loved lovings, love surely doth know.
The love of the person, that we inevitably befriend.
The love of the kindness in sharing our bleeding ends.
The love of protection, secure promises herein
The love of the promise that we would keep within.
The heart that bleeds for that suffering ally
The heart cultivated commiserating stands by.
The fool kept on, thinking only of the other
not realizing his demise wouldn't stir a bother.
So the many hearts enthralled did stay
but only twas he, as he held no true sway.
He stayed and remained and began again
door after door he kept leaving open
Riddled with absence, of those he thought he needed.
In providing no use for them, they themselves weeded.
He learned that his loneliness was a gift
The company he kept his soul would now sift.
And in learning how the heart can be pained
he kept his on counsel and within self remained.
Surely he loves and will love, with song.
But only the deserving, caring and strong.
Those strong enough to see his weakness, his failings, his pain.
And Embrace with their soul, what befuddles the brain.
To see him and perhaps see the boy not the man,
riddled with wounds, and the scars his skin carries, tan.
Defending himself his trench only deepens
his voice only blames him and his soul does weaken
so foolish I've been, yet the hope somehow still comes
That someone who truly sees me, doesn't attack what I've become.
So solace awaits in my steps to and from
the hopes that my walking away struck the strings strung.
That a person can withstand what the heart dares unsung
Song of a soon future, that will never, ever be begun.
Upon labored breaths from heaving lungs
I'll count the days as I press on.