Modern Romanticism

Her eyes
Glaring with hope
Across somewhere I find
Ignition to a greater mile.
She teaches me to use
The file
To saw my teeth to chew this moment,
Not to dust,
Though to shape something of worth.
An attraction
To sunrise,
Is my fortunate beginning.

Her life has been the rose.
My world
Once with a black curtain
To draw it closed.
Upon the sweet apocalypse,
My ending looked so fragrant,
More than the petals
Of the red gleaming prime
Of her.

Lakes dry their surface by the fog
That folds over the ripples,
Cast like ancient sheets,
Worn quilts
Atop the emperor's bed
In his antique quarters.
My world
Is a mere sign
To my depravity.

Her beauty
Once called mine,
Shapes design
Of what I found, what I lost
Upon the road
That curls as the serpent in my mind.