Hemlocked Heart

Comfort is a need today, once again
Woe, a noticed change in my breath
Yet, Comfort hides within my labyrinth
Only wakes to wake the cautious dread

Comfort lingers behind weighted shelves
Self absorbed in the art of absence
As worry and chaos scurry down rumpled rows
Repainting cherished memories in distresses tones

And there, sat resigned on a bench
Shrunken down to the smallest tome
Sits Comfort, the crumbled vanquished
Who will yet not rise to find a proper tomb.