Send back the storm.
The drizzle did not make you laugh,
Tickling the man-made ocean
Others created for you,
On the way back
From their arrival.
You have sown
The stitches in your heart,
Finding fault
Among all rewards.
You bleed in the universe
Farther than the nebula,
Curving your form
Around another dent.
Walk among the desert stream,
Treating the waves
As constant farewells.
Trace your form to the moat,
As you need no walls
To speak on what you avoid.
Here is a gem
From a broken heart,
Gambled for the sake of a life,
As I remain to be
Weakened in present sight
To your strife.
Modern Romanticism 