Left to only imagination…
I slowly conceive my damnation.
With only a heart & a head armed…
A little of myself oblivion charmed.
In the pewter halls of solitude…
Ice gathers on humor’s altitude.
Without input’s bereft engagement…
Only my faults can grant assuagement.
Again, convinced that I’m the worst…
Then, tech chimes “love” & conviction bursts.

