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“While all walks on, then all must be loved, for the matter of safety. By the genuine heart that never misguides, never missteps, comprehends purpose beneath its own weight, there is infinite pressure atop eternal light.” – Modern Romanticism There are those, and those, alone, who fight within the darkness. Love is a grave, for…
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“All arrogance behind human nature is where we find ourselves not as imperfect, beautiful creatures, and here willing to forsake what makes us ephemeral, in the vain desire to be more.” – Modern Romanticism It is in the aspect of knowing oneself, that to comprehend the self is to realize where one is limited, that…
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How cometh the rainWhen all falls down in pain,When the rapids swarm knees,During the wash of old tears?Blood runs,Though nothing bleeds,Hearts hurt,While everything kneelsAmong this blackish terrain. Within our eyes,Where storms are our companions,Love reigns,As the heart rains.A great mixtureOf grief and disbelief,A potencyOf sorrow and the denialThat we are here. Give me rain,As you…
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“To love’s logic, it does not encompass the multitude, as such always surrounds the oneness of it. We are one, under love, as we are never above it. It is to danger upon the beloved, that we focus on nothing else. To love being the epitome of logic, wills us on a straightforward path, whether…
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Bent beneathThe sadness that descends me,From altars, of disbelief.She rains,Still wets the earth of my heartWith her song.Her life,With the breath taken awayFrom the face,Yet not the lips. Beauty keeps itself, thereWithout so much as a stare.Her eyes,Closed, with the peaceAgainst my grief,Though wielding the same calmAs when we kissed,Within ungracious life. A casket,A lifeNestled…
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Drifting into the eons,Drafted as the sketchUpon the clouds,While you look upTo see the raindrops fallingFrom their hollow birthOf empty heavens. In arms,We hold the other,Believing sadness can burn itselfIn the wind,Loving still with miles between us,Shattering ourselvesIn porcelain reflections,Leaving ourselvesUpon empty highways. Onwards, with tremorTo the ends of our fingers.As if candleflame could light…
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“It is impossible to care for the dead. That, it is impossible for them to improve, means that tears are all you need. Though, one cannot care for the dead, meaning they’ll never rise, never to improve, now that they are eternally fallen.” – Modern Romanticism What did George Floyd’s relatives do to improve upon…
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“One can be ignorant without being prejudiced. However, one cannot be prejudiced without being ignorant.” – Modern Romanticism To be anti-racist would have to mean to be anti-ignorance. However, how can one be anti of an absence, pertaining to ignorance, without broadening the void? Instead, to make the error of relating prejudice to hatred, would…
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“We interpret what we mean to divide, in the departure of its original meaning. Where meaning has its place, is in origin. Origin is the finding of what means itself, even currently. To interpret it, means to spark continual change in the current time, so that it is the meaning that is randomized in how…
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“Is there truly a winner in a scenario where both sides are at a loss?” – Modern Romanticism Justice is served, as it is said. Though, to make Justice personal, turns it into Vengeance. An emotional story. A heartbreaking story. If one considers the weight of emotions, then perhaps one will be brought low in…
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Bleeding on towardsThe feathery horizon,Holding a note in yearning hands,Curling toes against damp sands.Why must the sealingOf two hearts, in distant sceneryCome reeling? Why mustWith eyes that never waitWithout the stammering heartbeat,Our voice choke upon the wind?Why must the vowsThreaten to come plummetingWith the pressure in the blood,With the faultIn the earth’s tremorsAnd the ocean’s…
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How great,For how subtleTo never lose youIn the wild rain,Within the washed-up grain,Stealing a signAll over again. A ghost in the doorwayTo look upon you,As I falterIn this place,In the afterlife. Here, the heart screamsWith the churning of ironIn my cold bloodstream.Falling apart,In the wind. A look upon your lips,A scar to where I kissedYour…
Modern Romanticism 