Modern Romanticism

Famous misuse,
rebuilding histories
into time-lapse.

Let this linger
for more than it's worth.
Let's be weeping
for guilt we don't have,
cursing demons
that are just clothes
in the corner.

You'll go, closing out
your fire in a puddle
you will mourn in.

A smile has remnants,
something no one knew
lived in this room.

You are near,
crying in your arms,
because I cannot carry
your charms
to your seductive,
reductive grave.

Your form is an aura
I'll blind myself to,
wishing nothing
when it passes,
like an unseen star
through a void.