Love’s unused bandage
For the leaking wound
Upon protected flesh,
To awake to thundering sadness
Of a one, weeping at a bedside,
Staining hands
With the rain of guilt,
Dismembered from their mind.
Love shows a path,
As life leaves a trail
Towards bitter ends,
Among ecstatic smiles.
We weep the tears
For those behind, to find
The sufferings we took
To taste, as wine.
Walking
With love buried, ashore
Where earth stretches roots
For us to stay
Near who departed,
Who faded, from us,
In the brief moments
We found us.
Modern Romanticism 