Hemlocked Heart

Once I thought she might answer,
I had hoped she would notice,
Yet, dreams leave me none wiser,
Long lost intrigue, the grotesque.

Not a knock on the front door
Not a scent in the west winds
Not a wrapping on hard floors
Not a whisper across grim grins.

Flashing through the corridors,
Grief and loss for the living
Rogue hunted heartbreakers
Left in bleak solitude, longing.