Modern Romanticism

Wrap me in whatever you can lend me

For I have brought death to my scenery.

I do not wish to be kissed by the moon,

Nor the feathers of ravens.

Though, this pillow beneath my head

Seems to be filled with blackness.

Don’t you want to hold me?

Don’t you want to lift me

Beyond where I’ll go,

Where songs do not snow

The notes down upon my nose,

For all I smell is decay?

Please take me in arms as brittle as the tears you have wept,

Place me in your heart, so that I may

Receive exquisite comfort.

Bleed me no remorse,

For I have wilted.

Loneliness encompasses

The past.

Please not, the future.