Modern Romanticism

I chose this.
I felt it form tethers,
attaching me
to its beating heart,

because I had nowhere
to belong. I had nothing
but this veil of present fear. 
It disguises what's behind,
keeping mysteries
going forward.

I let this circle be drawn
to trap what's meant to
faint and collapse. 

I let this absence be heard
through cries from a jungle,
one that redraws a scar.

I chose one tear
to come through for
another one,

while words of promise
become blankets,

while years of history
become blank pages.