She built me up then left me stranded

In a dusty dry deserted town

I stayed put like a coward rejected

With only a furious forlorn frown

I conversed with her ghost for many moons

Like a maniacal manic mental mule

Afraid to abandon that which departed

Stuck in a profuse painful pool

I lay lodged ’til all the dust settled

As still as glorious gorgeous gold

Then saw my fate in a lost lonely world

Fragile heart sought, soldered, and sold

Came to my senses in the eleventh hour

Before the ferocious pheasant feast

And became the ghost of my own emotion

Disoriented. Dismayed. Denied. Deceased.