Burrowed heart in
A faceless finality
Where heartbeats are heard,
To be envied.
The walking stain
Now writes himself, in a cruel place.
She lifts her state
To his pleasure, put in place.
Open, yet stagnant, are his words
Uttered from rotting lips,
Mourned over his teeth,
Wailing for blood to keep.
Cruel, discarded sympathy
Falling lower than empathy.
An embrace to the venom
Of love’s unholy reason.
A trial and a makeshift vow
Of tears that skip the marking lines
Where false signatures were written
Losing meaning in the leaning
Towards despondency in the sequence
Of shame, towards the entrance
Of a bed, where life loses its last breath
On a tidal wave of lost oars.
She dies upon the bloodshed
To a man whose heart was never led.
Modern Romanticism 