Modern Romanticism

Let me surround you

In clashes

Against your frozen skin.

You have denied

For many whiles,

Many eternities.

And now, it is my turn

To show you truth

Beyond your understanding.

The blue sky

Has not been wide enough

For your eyes to see upward

And catch my falling tears.

Life has been so cruel

To yourself,

Like when rings were placed upon fingers

Not thin enough,

Not emaciated, enough

To have the world balancing on one loosely-hanging bough

Upon the shortest oak,

In a wilderness where love is thrown.

I find you to be

As famous as the grown tree,

Where leaves dance, and petals prance

About in the wild,

Like some lost child.

I will wield you,

With arms that do not break

Against the wind.