Modern Romanticism

Shattered shell,
an unbelievable
waiting game
I have passed.
While tolls were
collected for more,
I wished for less
to go on with.

I build in this
timeline of recollection
a dream I cannot break,
will not wilt its seams
to drown it under
regret's reflection.

Before I have more space,
I will shelter this hour
where night meets forever,
extending lasting rays
from so lightweight
a morning sun.

Before I can continue to
breathe what gusts
leave this speaking tongue,
I will gift to eternity
all it yearns for
beyond Heaven's gates.

I have been deprived
of shape, of splendor,
dragging through rooms
deceptive letters
written before a scene
where wreckage lies.