Poem of Despair

I once wrote a poem for you. Thought of giving it to you, but you disappeared. When the sunset begins, I want to read it to you. Poem of love, but maybe it's the poem of love in despair. I'm reading it now, but there is no meaning to it. I feel so empty, I could see the blank paper eating the words of love. The magic in the poem is dead, as I could see words in vapors. When I wrote the poem, I saw a beautiful future ahead. Lately, I don't get to sleep peacefully a single night. Everything is into the water, that my poem was torn and soaked deep down the Bly Manor.