I wrote this a while ago:

Loneliness is the most terrible thing.

As taking your life is the worst of sins;

sins not being measured in degree.

Loneliness is the most terrible of all things;

It is the most terrible of itself,

And outside itself,

It does not exist.

There is not witness to it,

Except for you;

You are alone,

And so even your loneliness does not exist.

Loneliness exists within itself,

And it is a very very sad thing,

And I cry for loneliness,

And so I became one with it;

Its sole witness,

And i it.

It is a spiral;

A grim trigger.

In its selfishness for self escape,

It drags you down

Until you

Do not

exist.

And with you it dies;

Returning to the world.

Being dispersed,

It passes others,

And others pass from it,

Ind with it, it’s hope,

And as so, it’s come to me,

And I saw it,

And I felt it,

And I became it,

And it had continued.

In a dream,

It left me.

I was without it,

And being without it I saw beyond it,

And I saw all things,

I saw all peoples

As they exist separate of all things;

Broken away,

Floating in abyss,

Combined we saw another,

And outside of us,

Of the one,

Was it,

And it ceased to exist.

But now I am awake,

And with my presence comes back that loneliness,

And for a moment,

It dreams.