Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

The Music of Memory

May 2, 2019

Winter drained itself, upon my knees,
In holding the cross, to your grave.
I saw, with feeble stare,
The stars, upon your eyes.

They that saw, the infinity, in our love,
And knew, it to be a lie.

I would only fight, to see tomorrow,
And now, I cradle death, in transparent arms.
In a moment, that knows, how to weep,
I sing a song, to grieve.

Blessings told by priests, and their hymns, of loudness,
As if to awaken, the dead, from their slumber.
I drew white, around white,
A sheet, about a body,
While a rose, stood atop, your crown,
A nest, of tresses, shows the hue, of ice.

A tear falls, from my cheek, to my chin,
I left it there, for my kin to see,
And for my kin, to salvage.


One Comment

  1. Getting heartbroken once again
    feels like a knife
    cutting with its sharp,
    another human bridge closes
    a new life’s scar
    share your tears
    share also your roses
    with those that are gone
    send your warm feelings
    send the love your soul encloses.

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