Wait in line, rust was a hundred times
the potency to cripple our hearts on time.
Under Heaven’s rain, sending a sad signal
to a barren lighthouse that remained, without.
Hands were shared, hearts were full,
round with the waters at all sides.
We kissed with ravens giving notice,
losing tomorrow.
Will the sun surrender
when the ocean reenters?
Offer life to the waves, blissful
in what sadness saves.
Remember the tides, recall why
we ever made a sound.
When did love to remove our crown?
Modern Romanticism 