Modern Romanticism

Don't startle yourself
Upon the approach of my footstep.
Your breath has been force for every opening door,
As I relive myself, in you.
You falter beneath the setting sun,
Claiming dust, on your eyelids,
Fading futures, with the world's ending.
The ending day loses light,
Like your presence in the night.

You close shut your face,
With eyes upon the dark of being withdrawn.
Do you ever have the betterment of Mankind
Against your bleeding spirit?
Do men always wish to seize you,
Upon their opening of you?

Your smile cuts the day in two,
Whenever it can face the blue
Of something brand new.
No ending was for your liking
Upon the fading gray that lasted
In the melting haze.

Can I approach,
Without your reproach?
Your gaze has eclipsed most,
Though you do not desire it,
Like the woman whose beginnings are brought forth
To fade into the empty glass
That held all else, except the golden, beating heart.
You've lost triumph
Within the melting pot.

I want to kiss,
Hold hands with the Devil,
For she is you.
A beautiful blue,
Whose gray textures
Remain as the remnants of something new
In the fog that only fades
Upon the closing of your eyes,
When truest daylight flies.