Modern Romanticism

Stick to me,
for I'll not ever
decide against it.
It was the end
to a curse,
to the worst
our Hell had
presented.

Come along
to run along
with four winds
at our backs.

I'll love until
finite time will
be that which
deafens hearts,
cripples into ash
all we never know.

I will never understand
that essence, that entity
that created this feeling.

It connects with strands,
with pieces of shared lives
we beckon into eternity.

I will hope,
as long as I hold
your golden hand,
that love supports
these sounds,
these sights,
these long years
that we cannot
smother into tears.

Be here,
be everywhere,
where you can
be forever explored,
where I can
soak my hands
in your skin.