Poem – “A Chest Full of Stars” – Romance

Go belittle all else!
Unto this rotten love,
Of all else given,
We’ve dismembered enough,
As our cries show many agonies,
Many moments of eternity.

We are frail children,
Tiny ones of no might.
We have death as mothers,
And cruelty as fathers.

We are children perhaps of love?
We are what remains of a rotten world,
And its disguised future.
Funerals surround us in antiquity.

Prayers are our final outcome,
Not the death, nor the message from the bottle.
Not the wine that we drain on dried lips.
I finally bequeath this question unto us,
“What will we become,
Besides another questioner?”

Reason makes Christ a nuance,
It makes religion a forthcoming.
It makes tragedy a storytelling.
What has become of love?

We fall so easily
Into each other’s arms.
We lick each other’s wounds,
And grace each other’s palms,
With blood and sand,
With tears and ashes.

I could kiss thee,
And rain upon thee,
My weeping.
Though, how could I ever,
When you can’t even define the forever?

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