On the cusp of two worlds one verse came,
but vanished when the former overtook the latter.
A battle decreed, a battle to mark
the space of a filled mind partnered with an empty heart.
A metre and rhyme for all
to consider, repeated and repined
but only for an unanswered letter.
Wrought with the ink of a blackened edge,
etchings of sorrows that will never be written again.