Worship the smile,
that keeps us following youth
at every step.
We weep, with an anchor
keeping us stirred.
Embrace, in arms,
walking from every corner,
to every side.
Whispering songs of angels
to our ears, at all divides.
Solaced glimpse to your face,
glinted, upon the moon’s rise,
when rain can find comfort
in your disguise.
I can, while the sun comes to take,
reminisce of your eager absence.
The ocean with each star to fade,
answers my questions to love,
repeats the stories made.
Titanic resolve to send these hands
to the distant west.
What did fall?
Who did call?
Whose portraits remain
to decorate these walls?
Modern Romanticism 