Modern Romanticism

Something else, other than
what arrived at our doorstep,
had swore at us, has us
kneel to their secrecy.

Something other than what
we provided devotion to,
brought us close to seek
a different kind of worship.

To its darkness, to its space
where openness is a blanket
to soothe those like us
who’ve become lost.

Water stirred in our hearts
to leak through our eyes,
blurred from vain perception
to limit what we couldn’t
believe to ever exist.

It cost our lives their years,
dragged us into a void
that solace brings,

for it was the finality
we didn’t dream of,
naked under stars.

It was the sight of decay
that we didn’t look at,
after all was already
rotten to the roots.