Speak to me, in this remembrance
Upon a foundation to her deliverance.
Sunsets surround the eyes
While life pushes forth
Upon a rowboat, atop recurring tears
As the heart rekindles another loose passage
For scriptures, in words, in stagnant fears
Pulling a carved note as a message.
Wash the stones down the throat.
Pinnacle to the dust
Near the fallen hourglass,
As remembrance for a departed heart
Was heat to glisten its apparent start
While time remained fresh.
Still with void in soul, bereaving flesh
Gave a word to the cruelest star
To ever represent what remained afar,
That the way in which to wake
Will be to see an enemy’s eyes.
Burned pages, forgotten memoirs
To life waving its flag of guilt.
Fallen rose attached to a curtain
Concealing a death for certain –
With guiding night to seduce this life,
Here are tears to wake the strife.
Modern Romanticism 