Modern Romanticism

It’s been fatal
to mingle with your
fragile similarity.

I want to protect,
while I cannot connect
with a proper vow.

You stand there,
gentle in the gusts,
careful in the air
that is your misery.

You’ve yearned,
you’ve hurt
throughout time,
throughout hours,
those minutes,
those seconds
hanging onto you
from winkled hands.

The stillest frame
cannot contain you,
cannot refrain you
from seeking shelter
in the pouring rain.

This simplest state
to your complexity
harbors ruin
from your heart
built from remnants.

What changes fate
in your final voyage
will be determined
when you no longer cry
under a forced smile.