Modern Romanticism

Never let, Heaven hear,
The great mockery, of my fruit,
I was thoughtless, yet here you are,
To bare the nakedness, of my suit.

The reckless approach, to danger,
My uncertainties, begone!
Never broken, never saved.
Never, but beloved, to the brave.

You wilted, as to my own,
Brethren, of my hope,
Abandoned, with my chalice,
Of frozen bitterness.

Unfurl the wicked remarks, of death,
Disgust, for the crude,
Burdened with grief, mothered by love,
Anguished, by God’s vanity.