A Quiet Peacefulness

I thought once, that love was key,
That in finding love, I would find me,
But what troubles ought are left behind,
would sorrow, anger, envy find,
When all are gone, An none remain,
What's left of me a shrill quatrain,
For notes hanging, in despair,
F A C E echoing in abandoned air,
a lonely dusting, melody gone by,
Heart smote with iron, beyond the wish to die.
Yet trapped, can not progress,
With neither grace, nor fine finess,
through life, in unending refrain,
what noise might come, to find me again,
Lost, Alone, and above all, unsure,
she slammed shut behind her my open door.
And locked, behind, I begged release,
Crying, screaming, in a silence not to cease,
Until, at last, my voice long hoarse,
my conviction, once strong, lacking all force,
I slumped beside and fought no more,
to open, or close, that cursed door,
The quiet of the grave, in poems long told,
The chill of unlife, in my passing bold,
to leach from he who thought of love,
The light he found from high above,
His one hope, long past Its mark,
When away went the light, and in came the dark,
No one left, his life far behind,
He took the abyss, and bade it bind,
His heart and words, so he could love no more,
And from silent echoes swung open the door.
No longer a portal to what he once could see,
But rather the dark door of eternity.
Prophetic of omens, loves true art,
to shatter the light, and bring other parts,
to unbind what was given, and in sublime duress,
bestow unending, quiet peacefulness.