romanticindeed
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My pain Is naught. Your pain Is bought From the galleries where color is adorned At the Spaniard Puetra del Sol, Run as red on ivory As a blushing girl, roaming through destiny. You field the flowers, As their scents tempt you. Kiss their great numbers, That I cannot haunt you. I want to love,…
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How much love Can we kiss the roses with, Before our lips become grazed By the touch of thorns? I did love, I truly did. You played notes upon the golden harp To lure me through, passageways Towards the messenger Whose message was to remain silent To your waiting game. I fell through the clouds,…
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“Where one should be proud for their deeds, one should be humble for what such actions make the committed person.” – Anonymous It is true in the statement that pride is meant for action, for deeds, for the noble actions that were held of having no choice. One can be internally proud as a hidden…
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I still vapor, Leaking From your bleeding lungs, Though the fever Has left us on the road, Onward. Our hearts reverberate On hollow notes, While beauty is but the standing stem, Of the flower That has lost its petals. I want to kiss, though am ignorant of what I miss. Confusion, Takes place In the…
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Beneath the wilted roses, I seem a fragrance too many. Too often left upon my bones To drink of something else sweet. Your absence has buried my heart, Left me full of the dark. You loosened me, then dropped me Like the infant upon his neck. I felt the summer come too close, For winter…
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Love was so wild In you, When faces had for fragile forms, Quaking hearts, Bleeding arms, Broken souls, in the memories of our dear moments We did not ever weep, We did not need to sleep. Could you have left Your cross to the soil, Letting it grow something beyond the pain? You had died…
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Unbroken hurts, Faceless smiles, Hurried hands That part the skin to be closed, I am in madness. The pain I seek To create the sting Upon an already-disordered and used-up soul Has made me feebler, Born as the hungry Father of Cruelty. I feast Upon the beasts To grow stronger, than the claimed spirit I…
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Leave lakesBeneath eyes of boldest blue,Though to kiss me, will you do? Wrap yourself in wilted petals,Cover your dreams in tear-stainedSheets,Bold red, though now blackened by falling dropletsComing from the storm in your irises. Love has emptied youInto death’s own fervent memories,Leaving trails beneath your feet,For many more men to follow. Like the last,I merely…
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Your cheeks, in the summer rise Of longer moments, to speak in the maze Of gardens, with gazes longer than my fingers That have entrapped your ankles, like rope For the marvelous, golden flesh. Sing to me Wide verses, Boldest beauty who does not sleep, For you are the season with the brightest light. The…
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“Comprehend it, as it may seem, that the soul is real. Non-existent, lacking matter, lacking physical structure, and so unlike the form. But, it retains its place in the world. Attempt to resurrect a form as the person with the same personality and memories they were, in life, and it is impossible. Memories are the…
Modern Romanticism 