With each breath that never makes it
To the wick, that it should be unlit.
With all faces that speak the vibrant curse
On lips, concealed of a veiled message
That love bleeds on, for better or worse.
Pages connected at their grip,
Holding weather to its writer’s eyes,
With clouds waving the sun goodbye –
On the road, the landscape that dried
With tears replacing marble with plaster,
Covering sincerity with cornerstone.
A loss, at every edge –
While white-out dresses your pledge
Upon the page, garbed for the ceremony
To your blank gown, in the imaginary.
Wings that fold to the blinded vision
For your freedom at night,
Gleaming as a dying star, within sight –
For no smiles, ever clearer
Than the wells in your eyes, of water.
A message strapped to the voice,
A clear note in the blood,
Upon ever-defeatd smiles gone unnoticed,
Clipped of wings, severed of streams.
Each droplet in the wells –
For your un-drying gaze,
Stains a boat traversing the haze.
Speak from your unbalanced heart –
To wait for the current, in your yearning.
Swim to where daylight is sending –
Your crippled state to soar,
Above tortured seas you adore.
Modern Romanticism 