Modern Romanticism

You were always one
who considered themselves
the sacred one, the maddened,
deprived one who could
drive in a final nail,
letting me fall, before it was
death that made the call.

You emptied your veins
for what you are able
to find in me, to provide
your unquenched lips
a taste for a journey
to your dedicated high.

What isn't near enough
for you to see, when the sun
is meant to blind you,
you bring someone down
with you, while clinging
to the moon's crown.

You find these nights
better for your eyes,
better to be the disguise,
as you use these ropes
to connect a limb
to a vanished limb.

What you want will
have its staying peace
through time,
through gravity.

You'll pull down
these white curtains,
to chain your life
to desirable strife.