A barren hive

The sad that contaminates all my space  
and love be but an unborn child  
beckoned smile that fell upon stony place
desert where no bee survives  
 
My pollen never gathered thus  
for natures way, the seed and till  
the worker breach upon my cusp  
some attraction just incomprehensible  
 
Perhaps I am, just the tumble weed  
gregarious in sole lament  
blown between the flower heads  
minus never plus is my content  
 
Never partake of that swarm  
the broken amulet of charm  
 not to feel a body close and warm  
for loneliness can most disarm  
 
Wax octagons devoid of sweet  
for wars attrition's soon depletes  
 
reference poem ( the sonnet ballad)