1579.

Hearts flounder and drown
under these dull conditions.
All roads set to end.

1578.

The breeding ground of
loneliness, spreading nothing
but slow, dying hope.

1577.

The sorrow of a
world left to dyslexia
in matters of love.

1576.

A desire for
lessons in vein's morse code, set
to heartbeat's telling.

1575.

I wish you could feel
the braille of this skin so the
need would be sated.

1574.

Hollows persist where
dreams go unfollowed. Empty
skies and souls remain.

1573.

If only we could
learn how to read our own minds
to discern meaning.