An ode to love and death

I am flying to a place,
A place with no ground or base.

A place from where love flew.
Where all night crawlers will crew.

Gather all love locked lark,
The night is new and dark.

I know not what song to chime,
 nor know what poetry to rhyme.

 My guitar weeps gently and silently,
 All melody drying up wearily.

 For my friend will no longer applaud,
 My cold heart is all clawed and sawed.