Modern Romanticism

It’s a pair
of dark eyes,
where radiance
never wants
to enter.

It’ll intrude
onto her secrecy.
It’ll push
until she’s falling
over her crafted cliff,
diving for pain
in an ocean.

It’s the history
she’s tracing
with the scars,
those that adorn
her sacred identity.

She protects
what’s mere leaves
that fell from up
in her stolen skies.

Love can remake her,
thunder would wake her
at the briefest spark
that comes close
to burning away
the taint,
the paint that colors
her precious lie.