Modern Romanticism

Leave me drying
The ends of my bloody fingers
Upon this inferno
Of stinging malevolence.
Her nightmare was my scream,
As her tears were my gleam.
Her beauty rushes as the waves
Atop my running eyes.

She dressed with the fervency
Of a thousand glistening clouds
Never parted, to last
As the eternal storm
Above my brow, my head,
As her torment, in this stead.

A quiet life beneath shelter,
Beneath the raining misery
Of a hundred wilted destinies.

I mourn the largest teardrops
To fall from heaviest eyes,
Bleeding from weariest spirit.

She pleaded to never depart,
Though, I made her part
From my skies,
My Heaven
In Hell.
My peace
In this grief
Has been betterment, outside of the empty shell
Of many composers with their scepter,
Casting a spell
Upon my emptier conscious.
I chose to fly far from my supposed lie.

I chose to part aside from her,
Making music from my sighs,
Creating oceans from my cries,
Causing storms by my torture,
Releasing floods by my wounds.