Modern Romanticism

Gravitate your stare
Down to where you shall beware
The coming flood
Of my love.
Upon unknown currents
You will sail your body,
Sculpted with much defeat
To your loneliness.

The hurricane
With its great winds
Stains my sides, my mind
With its droplets
Upon every violin's edge.
I drop to my knees
To weather my signs,
To carry my stare, from behind.

I kiss
With marble lips.
Burning
With anger's writhing.
I feel the truce of a General
With his army at command
To take my hand.
I yearn, with the blood of many men.

Stinging
Beauty to my mouth
That has remained slack to receive your breath
For whenever you shall awaken.

I call the storm
To my palms,
While leaves shatter in my grasp,
Stumbling my voice over the wind.