Modern Romanticism

The tears surround,
Like oceans that are birthed
From my growing eyes.
They lift,
Though pull back
At the sight of the skies
That cry ever greater streams
To the tenderest dreams
I once had of you.

Why of pain,
Does it need to rain?
Why of this grief,
I must remain in disbelief?

We never touched
In worlds apart,
Like two devils scarred from their Hell,
When Heaven never kissed us to begin
A life upon its shoulders.

We loved like life was a nothing,
While eternity was everything.