My short poem

You speak of my frustrations in memories aloft High as I was in the sky, so as low will be my drop In most of days I long for you, and in most I feel the weight of the pain that sears and scorches through my arteries and veins How long, how long shall your stare remain to torment my heart and soul? The hades of which now fills my mind had once felt much like home and now I hide in solitude from suffering and from pain To escape the toils of loving you To sleep and never wake again.