Bent beneath
The sadness that descends me,
From altars, of disbelief.
She rains,
Still wets the earth of my heart
With her song.
Her life,
With the breath taken away
From the face,
Yet not the lips.
Beauty keeps itself, there
Without so much as a stare.
Her eyes,
Closed, with the peace
Against my grief,
Though wielding the same calm
As when we kissed,
Within ungracious life.
A casket,
A life
Nestled in this posture,
Wandering elsewhere,
Though in my heart.
Kisses red,
Sadness blue,
Rain shall fall
As roses will bloom
To smother the ocean’s shores
In crisp sweetness.
No breath from the lips,
No sigh of pleasure
To dance with the familiar song
Erupting to the sky.
Modern Romanticism 