Over stagnant currents,
To breath, we follow each other’s stream
To the vivid image beneath the oaks,
Growing gently the flavor
Upon our lips,
Creating tears that would strike a storm
Back to being reminiscent.
To wield your hip,
Then to a heart
Our eyes would skip
Its beat upon the untrodden path,
With steps we make,
Unknowing to each breath we take.
Call us down,
Symptom of love
Dramatic in its stare,
Fearful in oceans
We can live, to beware
The tides that would recreate us.
Hell is an ocean,
With its loneliness, its cross
Idle upon the sand,
With blood to the settled sharks,
Loss to the bewildering hunger.
Modern Romanticism 