Modern Romanticism

Running waves

From the back of this ship

Where I can see the rise of something bright,

Though leaving me tranquil

As it leaves me to dust,

In the quake of fallen rain,

To make

The lake

I would leave in her arms.

Blood runs to replace unfallen tears,

As my chest heaves a heaviness

To the coldness

Of a million burgs above the surface

Of her flesh.

I can breathe diamond

To make a heart,

For her glistening eyes.

Silencing the sun,

Raising the moon,

Blocking the light

That should shed skin more than years

Kept in the creation of many

Lakes, that sadness makes.