Modern Romanticism

Sweetest pain
Comes to take
Any remnant of you
From the bitterest world.

Love was never the trip spent well,
For I did find my comfort in Hell.
You spit forth tears, in your missing passion,
While I spit flame, atop buried sensations.

A planet held high
Over where you did die
In a place, where you fell
Out of love, out of my spell.

For I gave the world,
Only for it to be
Out of reach,
And did it ever whirl?

Did it ever spin
While you were nestled in?
The cherished moments,
While I will waste smiles
On the ongoing miles
Through bitter defeat,
For your kiss was never a drop more
Than a feeling of perception,
A place in heart, a cruel deception.