Doomed from the start, a lonely man's common tale. Get the spelling right and spiff up the prose, and you too can join the ranks of poets chanting as they march with the lemmings.

I once walked along the Appalachian Trail and camped under the hardwoods and felt the music you beautifully describe. The ransom of kisses was not there, nor shining stones of silent blood, or I missed them. But other visions linger from that forested walk, and yours might help to draw them up.

You can listen to everyone who votes 10 because that tells you you have touched the hearts of truly appreciative listeners.

Come on, at least tell me I used a bunch of redundancies.

You have posted this several times, each as a new poem. It might be better to post it as a revision of the same poem each time. Then the former comments are still there, but we can tell from the dates that they refer to an older version. It's still a good poem.

I got lost somewhere between the sadist and the masochist, which you assign to the same person.

Superlatives that you don't really mean weaken your credibility -
"much crueler Than anyone’s Hell"
"Infinitely high"

Not a limerick.
If a woman can know what your eyes clearly show, then how can she mistake it?

My grandmother, especially, was so handicapped. Her two hands could not keep up with her heart.

Very good. Take another look at a few lines:
without mutual opportunity
Nor before-ten-years you - commas
Nor the stars of your looks - "looks" is too plain.
catacomb - catacomb mask

I had trouble separating the three characters. Aparently, your friend is sipping the drink of "her." Maybe he's an alcoholic drinking her booz, or in love with her. He feeds off your emotions, which I don't get. Aparently you are about to commit suicied by drowning. Or have I got it all wrong?

Verse 1 is good and sets a platform for a good lyrical story.

Verse 2 only hints, it adds nothing to the story.

Verse 3 does not build on Verses 1 and 2, but opens a new direction. Now we have two stories begun.

Why did you delete your recent poem. I hope you did not change your mind because of something I said.

Colds are bad for prose
drips fall from a runny nose
though the form is good
I think you should
make that last line a thing to expose

Reminds of TS Eliot "The Wasteland." Lots of mythology and language to dissect. I get maybe half of it, and that in fragments.

Some of the verbs seem wrongly tensed. Verse 4, for example, try "I would kiss you"
Line 6 has a problem.

A weak idea, weakly developed. This is not your best. The rhymes do not help. As much as I've criticized your vagueness, I'd rather have it over this.

The first sentence is good, except what have you against capitals?
Chimera seems too grandiose for a duck's beak.
"can try" meaning to try patience or ability, I suppose, seems clumsy.
"ear of bread" may be a Briticism. If so, okay.

It fits the meter, but what does it mean?

A bit over the top. A blank canvas sits untouched because it's blank; unveiled, but we see it. Tears overflowing from what? Palette decorated nightmarish dreams, and starlit eyes - outside then. Still a haunting vision.