Crippled, in ashes,
Turned to dust at the sign
Of teeming hope.
At once,
Bright as the North Star
Leading you, through.
My reaching arms as boughs,
Keeping you from falling through.
Tears trail,
Connective and unending.
All at once,
Loose petals are tossed
Across your delicate cheeks.
Tears walk
In the presence of the moon,
Still apparent to you.
Tears speak
From tongue and cheek.
Among the dust
Falling from a flaking galaxy.
Among you, as the flame,
As this bare glimpse
With the void.
Obsession for the leaking stars
For their coming apart,
Too far.
Final hold,
Wishful grasp.
Obsession elated, elapsed.
Frozen tears,
Broken glass upon one hour
Discerning the number
From flakes to debris.
Fallen snow
From the nighttime sky
That recalls the coldest cry.
Caress the cheeks with tears
Never to leave,
Though have left.
Break apart what was never meant
To glide, to disembark
For tides, to recede with the current
To close the gap of a parted past.
Modern Romanticism 