Hoping
For a lost wish
To make it back
To the silenced crevice,
Towards the wind-torn
Reverie,
Where much else was dropped
As tears,
From hollowed out
Visions.
Viewing
Tomorrow
As the past,
Carved in a sealed heart,
Broken
To leak upon tapestries
Where forests are prettied
By the thought
Of something universal,
Everything natural.
Walking
Upon pathways,
Staring back
To the bleeding beyond,
To a sun,
Decorated with roses.
Losing
Time’s stray second,
While waiting
With heavy hours,
Hanging as the corpse
From the collapsing tree.
Modern Romanticism 