Modern Romanticism

Just an ending

To what is my travail

In all life's complications.

You are the world that stems on infinite time,

Away from any shortest moment

In deepest passion.

I feed the eternity something blue,

Something new

That does not wallow in the shades of grey.

Filter my dismay

That I might receive the 'forever kiss'

Upon my tongue,

That I might taste the wash of joy

Upon my listless face.

Just a kiss to represent the uncertain future,

So that I do not meet the certain death.