Modern Romanticism

Distant scars,
like loosened rainfall.
Present memories,
like these forever fields,
running with those trickles,

from a lost pair
of extinguished eyes.

I still yearn to keep you
captured, in these arms –
ones that have roamed,
forever, to meet you,

to greet you
while you are finding
other ways, to treat yourself.

I am losing
sight, of a little candleflame,
though I want
to keep the present burning,

to keep these moments
turning far from a future –
one I am eclipsed to.