Shreds: “The Same Old Souls”

Thou spend’st thy hours on yet ‘nother mistake,
I notice thee from my frozen balcony,
For since yestereve, all warmth did forsake,
But, lo, we remain the same old souls, truly.

How easy it becomes to harbor disdain
After millennia spent in a love’s embrace,
Perchance ‘tis but weariness that doth reign
O’er the one thing for which we ought to face.

I throw away my minutes on another channel,
Thou mark’st me by the tomb-like silence
That wraps round thy steps and thy crystal panel,
But, lo, we remain the same old souls, hence:

I, the usual, unstable, meager poet,
With pockets full of rhymes and tales;
Thou, a soul so pure and quiet,
Whom I have wounded with countless travails.