Modern Romanticism

Dread in white,
enduring this
through paragraphs
written with black.
I am holding back
tear after selfish tear,
smothering the way
that retreats away
to the storm.

What must I do,
to give everything I have,
until I can undo
love's painful brand?

Fragile one.
You've kept onward,
seeing illusions
in what you could become.

You've been kneeling
in sands from the past,
as you've been blind
to promising words,
being traced,
among dust.

You've kept looking ahead,
to view a hideous repetition,
playing out, within
a different infinity.