Modern Romanticism

Tears don’t
renew you.
But can you?

Can you be
the valiant hero
on your journey?

You could be
the finale
to your game.
You are sturdy
in your build,
aboard tragedy.
Your reflection
swells above
vast emptiness.

A monster inside,
beyond your flesh,
past where nakedness
receives superficial scars,
collects those spots
from random spells
of judgment.

You still choose
to hang your neck
from the fabric
of a white flag.

You still depart
not for relief,
not without grief
writing further pages.