Modern Romanticism

See the red

Beyond the path?

Do not cross it,

Or we will surely die.

Each desire of ours

Fades into the black,

By the fire near the fallen hours.

Alone with you,

Hand held with destiny

Upon frozen rocks,

And discord that crafts locks

To put upon our agile hearts.

Each escape

Into worlds meant for Heaven,

Has sent us into Hell.

See the red upon your brow,

I see it,

And I will take the bow

To beauty and beyond

Your might.