Sifting through memories in pictures
Bled through a glimmer, a stream
Where Hell raises the sun for your capture
In the lasting rose, upon razor petals.
You leave fog for these eyes,
Weeping stains, unbinding the seams –
While ships toss hearts, overboard.
Can we renew our image
With familiar landscapes, decadent cityscapes?
Can we hold hands, while the earth escapes
Beneath the cradled, postured balance?
We want to love, while the moon allows entrance.
From the bottom of floating rivers,
Fish rise to us, to deliver –
Ourselves to the countless stars.
We beat with the hearts,
Devour ourselves in the calls,
A murder of sleep, amid silent wars.
A thief would enter our room,
With a promise never to remove
The silence of us, concealed in gloom.
While mistakes are wept as many
With the stars, the scars, counted to eternity.
A stolen token of red,
While we are stilled among the dead.
We remain beneath wings, enthralling the night,
Deep in the circles of the other’s eyes –
Murdering sleep, upon bottomless cries.
We bury the mantle, kill the throne,
Journeying for reflections, with everything known.
Modern Romanticism 