I swear To hold the world up. Each tragedy shall fall at my command, Each bitter tear shall drop to never again be seen, Each angle shall turn into a beautiful curve Of your now broken flesh. I want to hold the mirror to your face For us both To notice a smile That does not crack, Does not break Neither against the wind, Nor those quivering hands That would rub the eyes to burns of friction. I kiss the cheek, Not the lips. I hold a new memory Of something better Than the music of yesteryear Where the strings of both harps and violas Were snapped. I give you roses with the hues of the sun, Hoping such warmth will better you For the future that is won. I will no longer weep For what could not be, Because, your face will be the reminder Of the future, clearly seen.