Let it storm,
Let it bleed
Infamous, iridescent droplets
To rinse the tears from this harrowed,
Torn open face.
Wide upon the waste,
While sadness enters a mouth,
All bitter to the taste.
I starve for another
Like your kind,
To compel light, for me to follow,
When all that remains to stain
Is the past to swallow.
A pen with no ink,
A heart without blood,
All words, stagnant in the veins
With no paper to flood.
To your eyes, I would have sunk
Forever to infinite depths,
Or even to find you at the lighthouse
Beyond the fragile rush.
Modern Romanticism 