Modern Romanticism

Bring yourself forth,
dragging your fears through
a door I've held open
for light to leak into
your parted mouth.

Lips that have prayed
for one hellish eternity
that never signals away
the pain, the reminder
of how you've lived
in these unanswered days.

Dark curtains have dropped,
closing a dream, in its final act,
as an anchor has been tossed
from a lingering vessel.

I hope that all this
will bring you to be stationary
in some sense of welfare,
some sense of gratitude.

Will you scorn what has
been given from scarred fingers?

I will, if I must drink
from your cup of anguish,
if it will be emptied.