Call back the reigns
That lifted you, to send you
Onward on a drifting path,
Weeping you
Through songs that entrench this grief
In the pathway that does not decay.
Notes are my shower
Engrained as twisting shades
Upon a page
White as the newborn sun
To reenter this love
With everything to be won.
You weep
Your loose release
On the day you resigned
Yourself to the sign
That death was the greater comfort,
An eclipse of the sun.
You keep your crying edge
With a dash of salt
To console the wound,
Tearing at the same symptoms to pain
That wield you in everlasting shame.
Will we cross the river
To find newborn rays
To be awakened,
In the discovered journey
For a pair of arms that stay?
Modern Romanticism 