Here she
Exposes herself,
In the blandest state
For the moon’s epiphany.
Wandering shallows,
Hell-born streams
In the violet,
Through the waters, collected
At her anchoring ankles.
Spot the waves
Crashing from debris,
Within the bloodied sea.
Beauty seizes her,
Widens her
To depth’s everlasting.
Wearing the crown,
Concealing the frown
As the monarch of doom,
Weeping through
The midnight,
In shadowed rooms.
A crown of dismay
To remind her towards the day
When sunlight has nothing more
Left to say.
A plate, full
Of her dreams and sorrows.
A face, emptied
For tears and tomorrows.
Modern Romanticism 