Would the stars, among senseless light
Pledge greater amount of tears
Than to the fallen veil uncovering fears,
Than those stains would remain at night?
Holding onto senseless worship
Towards your teeming scars.
That way winter holds your hand,
Keeps your eyes upon the meaningless.
That way the years gravitate you
Leaving your song as fallen rocks –
Into the puddle of not your choice,
Away when the funeral was your voice.
Borrowed dust at the grain,
Cupped in the same flesh was stained
In your burying teardrops,
While winter keeps your life idle –
In the fatal current,
While your eyes never warrant –
The fade from you to the dust.
As hope clings to the moon,
Petals dream themselves for you
In your fragile blossom, outside the rush.
While scars cling,
Drawn to memorable proportion,
Love finds space in the rust.
Modern Romanticism 