Solitude

He bears a wound,
With no healing
He hides his pains,
And all his feelings.

Not a friend for him,
To share his sorrows with
Happiness for him,
Existed as a myth.

For a solitary one,
He had been all his years
It had left him with nothing,
But only his fears.

For what he was,
And for what he is-
A solitary man
He enjoyed no bliss.

When the end was near,
He could only shed tears
For his will of solitude,
Had ruined his life
And left him with nothing,
But a purpose to strive.