Pulled about the loosened veil,
Everything seems to rain
Around this battered temple
In the life most lived, within motion,
Exiting towards the estranged ocean.
The sun dressed me, its golden coat
For great abandonment from what is most
Capable to be undone,
Of decadent time, glimpses to be won,
In spite of everything newly said
Of a virgin tempest, where burns fever.
With passion’s bite, as destiny bled
Among what sadness did sever –
A loose stream, from a porcelain eye.
As I exit from all that rained,
Not to motion, never to spill
The watering gesture in everything written
Upon the disused hourglass that fills
This deep shame that I could not
Return to where blood did clot.
I left the door open, behind
That what passed could see me blind.
Modern Romanticism 