Modern Romanticism

Your presence
In my loneliest of hearts,
Is the greatest absence
In this darkest of shelters.
You once held winds
In arms,
Loosening birds
From your mouth,
Letting freedom be your call.

I stayed the ocean for you,
For your waves to reach me.

I gave to Heaven its befitting fire,
Letting sighs be what fans the inferno.

This house
Without a rose,
Loses its divinity
Beneath the cross for the Devil,
For I wilt it to rust,
Measure it
By grains of dust.

Lakes or oceans
As coldest fears against hallways
Now coated in ash,
Now deprived
Of the splash
Of your missing blood,
Of your missing flood.

Streams are not here,
Except for my sorrowful tears.