Modern Romanticism

I dare say
that you have been
avoiding this lash.
You are running
from your own leash.

What did they teach you?
Embedded, like stains
that are adorning you,
beneath your eyes.

How did they greet you?
You are mourning
with time's limited shelter,
while I've been waiting.

To shadows, your mentors
that are identified as memories
being multiple as countless,
beautified agonies.

What were those moments for?

You are leaving me,
with infinite grains
to number.