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It's like a loss; a part of you is missing.
You never noticed it until it was taken away.
It's like a caterpillar who's forgotten to make a cocoon,
It's like a beaver without his dam,
Like a swan without her lake and ballerina without her shoes.
You can see what they are supposed to be, even what they are,
Yet without that small thing, they don't seem as beautiful.
That's how I feel.

A painting by a famous artist can hang proudly in a museum,
Being continuously stared at and studied.
Was that why the artist's painted it?
Rome stands still noble and grandeur despite its ruins.
It emits history and the stone yearns with frustration to tell its story,
Yet it can't speak.
Old, royal mansions are visited every day.
Their Gardens are traipsed upon in selfish ignorance,
Their secrets are close to being disturbed.
Was this how the house's families' planned it to be?
Silently screaming?

It's almost impossible to describe.
It's not a mourning feeling.
For when you mourn over someone, you know they loved you, even if they've gone.
It's not even a sad feeling for you know that misery won't help you.
It's a scream inside, a scratching at your heart.
Every single pulse is a sob,
Every tear is a painful reminder that you have no one to wipe it away.
Every flower is colourless, and your interests are no longer interesting.
What you loved walked away. Why?
You blame yourself. What could have been the reason?
Poetic and romantic novels disgust you.

It's like a boat on an empty shore.
Dried up and beached amongst a forgotten cave.
It's like a bird without their flight.
An author without their ability to write, or,
A grand piano without its player.
It shows no remorse in public.
No frown in the open.
Its smile doesn't glow but it has one nonetheless.
Despite whether it's true or not, it stands strong.
Like the Mona Lisa.
Like a person...............................

Without Love.