Show your symptoms
For your faint disregard
To what is staged
As the props upon the lake,
Washed in velvet tears,
A material to soak
All of nothing.
Sadness reuses
Bleak waters that crawl
To your knees, given bent
To another source of devotion,
With the submission
That leaves you to drain
Your discolored eyes.
The sun never warmed you,
With it at your back,
With heaviness for all you lack,
Bleeding within the rowboat,
Drawing oars for the voyage
To another nowhere.
While water is pulled aside,
I search the ruins for you
With eyes that never leave
The pain where you aspire
To belong,
Deep among the reflections
Of emptied, ebony clouds.
A lake to see you
Never warm,
With the moon undressing you
To your scorn.
Modern Romanticism 