Nameless

She is a friend to dark places.

She greets them all in,

Their dim, hollow faces



She knows their wary walls well,

Assembled perfect halls of hell



She feels their deep, vacant spaces.

Her lonesome friends who submerge

In all dark places.



There is one, she meets

Upon lifted and mellow streets.

where gentle winds they sweep,

And her mind is able sleep.



“Oh I didn’t mean to find you here,” she’ll say

But the “Lonely”, in his selfish, sulking

Sort of way;



Will kiss, her petty little head,

And return her to,

Those vacant roads instead



Sunken. Again.



She’ll lay to rest inside,

Where only dark faced, places hide.

-Leonine Westburry