Another's Vibrations

If I had etched you a poem to the hundredth verse,
why would the term love be the most absurd?
Where thy lips fail me as cupid is stricken blind,
you ignore the word's power and treat me so unkind.

A fool with an unhealthy obsession,
to be considered so is fair and true.
A soul without a means of expression,
being at boiling point and always there to stew.

I'm cloaked in obscurity and writhing in darkness,
left to this reality, as merely a rotting carcass.
Just a hollowed frame to burden the personal strife,
When you call out my name I am brought back to the brink of life.

Merciful it may be to see me as dead,
another one of God's failed creations.
In his paradise, I know only of dread,
While this heart beats for another's vibrations.

I am the bending of an oak,
which begs the wind to snap.
I am the unrelenting heat,
that causes the earth to crack.
I am the haunting screech,
in the eagle-filled skies.
I am the unknown deep,
which lurks beneath the tides.

Never to learn all you ignored,
Never to learn what pierced to the core.
Never to learn of my sorrowful state.
Never to realise you were ever too late.

As agony ensues I clutch at my chest,
shivering with the coldness of time.
Alone pleading for the swiftness of rest,
hoping one day you will finally be mine.