Modern Romanticism

I have been reading
those golden words
painted onto
a silver heart,
studying the occasion
when I can state
that nothing here
will ever fade.

I am been rethinking
what moment I will undo
cemented memories.
I have been considering
that I cannot simply
be blind to blinding light.

It was often the final note
that played on fragile heartstrings
that compelled me to weep
until I fell asleep.

It is now where I will
repeat a promise, after I spill
an ocean of tears into
aching palms.

One promise, a collection
of words to provide a meaning.
A message for the clouds
where angel wings
pass through heaven's scenery.
A message never placed
into a bottle, to be
lost upon an endless sea.

A vow where I
desire to live,
will work to give
a heartbeat its chance
to continue its dance.