Curtains pulled down
to reveal brick, to reveal what’s sick.
Two eyes – blinds,
no purpose to tear away
at what is gone into yesterday.
Tomorrow is the new season,
yet all is dark.
Life behind,
death below
with all the sounds in this heart
echoing from stone walls.
No blood, no flood
to stop with fingers at the eyes.
I keep calling –
while the eyelids are falling.
I am resting,
yet screaming.
And love is gravity.
Beyond the shores, melting sounds,
inside this heart
where an ocean was born.
All is fading
while no cracks spare the winter’s light
within stone walls,
where all is night.
Modern Romanticism 