Poem – “To Lift Thee up from a Poor Tomb” – Romantic

Have thee gone astray?
From the wicked heart of mine,
Into the comfort of decay
And into the solace of a new moon,
Soon when your weary mind
Sees the heat in this garden’s bloom?

I see with steps that are taken,
Above a grave that reeks,
In the scent of an ocean,
The magnificence of your fall.
And soon to lift you up,
From this naked shell.

You are beautiful and exquisite,
Even in your pain.
You have the pain of a wounded bird,
And the eyes that show disdain.
Mere petals without being a bud,
Without any new beginning.

When you’ll see me and my strength,
There will be no doubt.
There will be no need to shout,
“I have not seen you in happiness,
So how have you found strength?”
I do not feed, my love.

I have starved myself of happiness,
So that I may see thy misery.
I have created torture from another flower
Where each petal holds poison,
And the nectar is just as toxic,
And it is how I comprehend pain’s taste.

I will take it away from you,
In this strength, in this love.
You are among the few,
Among the brave,
You have seen me among the rotten,
And you will soon see me as unforgotten.

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