Modern Romanticism

I view

With eyes widened, upon the narrow skies

Of you,

In nighttime meanderings,

Your seasons changing, so within yourself.

You bathe in the sea

During winter.

And sleep in the trunks of trees

During summer.

So much oddness,

So much coldness,

So much strangeness

Within yourself.

So much of yourself, carries itself

Onward, like the leaves in autumn,

Like the pollen in spring.

And yet, when the tears come in every season,

No one does notice.