“Loneliness” by Bill Richardson

Loneliness sits in an empty chair all day long.

 It waits unmoving in the hall, patiently.
 Staring fervently never altering its gaze. Never blinking.
 When the house is perfectly asleep and dark
loneliness waits still. Perfectly still. Loneliness is.
 It waits on the sun and is unaffected.
When sleep is perverted by tears, Loneliness is.
Loneliness is unrelenting.
 It’s beyond fear.
Fear is afraid of loneliness.
Love shuns loneliness.
Hate rages at it
sadness cries to it to no avail.
Loneliness is unaffected. It is devoid and void.
Loneliness is.
It is the father of the cold of shadow and mother of indifference.

 It’s family grows.

To be a child of loneliness is to pitied.
To feel the dull ache of the void of the soul that only can be filled by companionship.
 By another’s Blessed interest. By care. By love.
Another, some other, one other who is lonely, Another child of loneliness finds another.
 Loneliness acknowledges loneliness and that’s its weakness. It must be alone always.
Like a statue in a forgotten museum at midnight, loneliness must, is, has to be alone.
When we who are lonely are joined together by loneliness we aren’t lonely anymore.
Mourn loss
Rage aloud
Take heart.
have hope in dark despair.
Dry your tears and gather strength.
Let hope comfort you. Show comfort to others.Let mirth find its place in your heart, the hearth of the soul. Share your mirth. Your smile. Your love. Share and give gladly your gifts given by divination.
Acknowledge the rising sun and shadows cold. Sweep clean the hall and right the chair.
You’re not alone in being lonely. You  now  are!!
When that truth is made known Loneliness itself then leaves.
It recedes.
 It is alone.
But we are not.
We are not alone.

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