Down, you fall
To abode, full
In your symptoms
For salvation’s call.
A pair of droplets
Cease their decline
From radiant eyes,
So dark.
A keeping
To what is weeping
Inside of you,
The less you give up,
The more to cling upon
With departure to each note
You had ever spoke.
To speak, again.
Teardrop,
Blood droplet.
A sight upon what leaves,
With no apparent grief.
True to heart
For those who depart,
While eyes scatter sunshine
At the open guillotine.
Loss romances you,
While life gives you nectar
From stillborn clouds
That never lost their kiss
At the summer’s rain.
Modern Romanticism 