Modern Romanticism

Unholy
Dynasty
Of something so unfathomable,
As the love from starless nights,
There is she
Wading among the terrors
To a place without light,
That I seek
Something so meek,
In where she places her crown
Of ebony mixed with ivory,
Though the latter has no substance.

She chooses
Diversity for ways,
While I
Can collide
With the ocean’s breath,
As I
Flood the world with her death,
Can sing praises that come landing down
In her collapsed arms,
In her fading wings.

Her beauty
Is something of no reprieve
To a shattered self,
As it begins to sail onward,
Towards Saturn’s critical rings
About her,
Reaching her
In the sinister twilight,
Making disuse become a savage objectification
In her toil.