Modern Romanticism

How many tears
Have escaped our eyes
To be on that plate?

How many years
Have been lost in the cries,
Denied to our fate?

Beauty ripped free itself from love,
Like the child who rebelled
From its home.

Love suffered in loneliness,
With nowhere to be,
Of ourselves in the sea.

Frigid and timeless,
Now our dream must face
The gates of emptiness.

I want to resurrect it
Upon the gate of revolution.
I want to keep what is leftover
In a heart stained
By so much pain.
I want to resurrect our dream.