Modern Romanticism

How wild your locks stream
Within the wilderness of your screams.
Tree limbs brace for the weather
Of your forgotten forever.
You have tears running
Like when the sky cries.

You falter in your own storm,
You tear down walls too high for you,
You ruin yourself in the buildings received with stones.
You are condemned in the cellar of your choosing,
Not thinking in clear skies with white clouds,
For you face the sun with panic.

You are too annoyed
By life's travelling whispers.
Love is selfless
When beauty is fragile.
You are caught in your own hurricane
When dismay is your only expression.
I loved
While you fell further from the crowd
I collected
In arms, as wide as the Earth.

Is blood too thick for you
To drink?
Is sweat too salty for you
To feel?
For when the eruption is greater
Than the depth,
There cannot be cause,
There can only be loss.