My love,
Allow me,
To lift thee,
From tragedy.
You found in yourself a place,
A shape, a heart,
You are a muse to me,
And I am amused by you.
A love I see so clear,
As the subtle stars,
Beneath widest lakes,
A face so very dark.
And so very light,
As you, the illuminated beauty.
So very low, I have bent my knee,
And offered a circle of gold.
I lift myself to kiss thy cheeks,
No tears, please, beautiful one.
We have cried enough,
And now is enough, more-so the love.
My body once ached,
And now I celebrate,
The eternity to our love,
And the holiest future.
I have found a work of art,
To place on a base, in my heart.
Love; oh, love!
I am nothing without it.
Modern Romanticism 