Loner
Aloof from the multitude
I want to live in solitude
Alone in the house where sound
Never sounds or is found
Each brick of which is made
Of silence and where the bed
The roof, the window, the walls
Are dead and cry never calls.
And dumb is my every thing
Among which I'm lonely being
I never live in solitariness
As with me lives the loneliness.
Aloof from the multitude
I want to live in solitude
Alone in the house where sound
Never sounds or is found
Each brick of which is made
Of silence and where the bed
The roof, the window, the walls
Are dead and cry never calls.
And dumb is my every thing
Among which I'm lonely being
I never live in solitariness
As with me lives the loneliness.
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