Modern Romanticism

No rocks can hold me together,

For I have tipped the balance between weight and world.

Will you offer the right, in your silence

To kiss your flattened lips?

In the casket, you are more fragile than the shattered world

Upon an evening with gallows,

Perches,

Fires and silken shores, with bottles of tears.

All I hear, in my drear

Are the laughing, mocking gulls

With the yelping, berating children.

So much youth to shores and infant eyes

That I left buried in a dismembered world.

How does new love tie into the mind, of me?

I seem to see myself, in areas of cut symmetry

The blood that flows so gently

Past the winter of my flesh, pale in the newborn snow

From a storm that reigns in my mind.

How does a new day look any different, than the last stay

Of you, beside my eyes?

You were the sun that rose

To fall like the sigh that never again came,

For you are the pain that will not close

Like the lid that turns upon your form.