A wish. A choice to
have our fires extinguished.
You lived, until you
asked for forgiveness
for where fires hissed.
We lost our scars,
our memories. Somewhere
along this main road,
we fell off. To a slow
decline to end sunshine,
we decided with our eyes
to seek heartfelt lies.
Comfort inside deception,
with loss. Outside of resurrection
where blood becomes holy.
I want those lips to last
apart from our hollow masks,
where crying faces remain.
Have we always
betrayed new life?
Listening to heartbeats
as rattling coins,
spent for a broken dream,
a wish upon a tearing scream.
Modern Romanticism 