Undone

Why am I unravelling?

Why do I see the world 

Through lachrymose light?

What can I do to cease 

This maleficent nostalgia?

All I see is an empty scope

And I am ill-fated by 

A lysing will that usurps 

My lasting and concluding

Feats of import.

Am I here at all?

Was I ever?

Who will know?

Who will remember?

What will I leave?

Sitting untenanted 

With a vacant expression

Of disillusionment

Only to be left helpless

As I am rendered undone.