Modern Romanticism

Find me, upon doomsday,
when torches burn out.
Whisper to me,
when faces are unlit.
I will be able
to rewrite this fable,

to become capable
of leading us through
all that we could not.

I am removing
tear from silver tear,
away from this brittle face.
If you are standing here,
it must mean you know
why I feel fear.

I am seeing those buildings
ignited like candles,
like lighthouses in the distance.

Do they lead?
Do they deceive?
Do they mean
to keep us embedded?
Do they mean
to make our promises
fragmented, shredded?

Find me, upon doomsday,
when lights have gone out.
We will find our own
reasons to be shown
as radiance, within day,
as fire, among night.