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“Turn to that person who is undergoing sobbing, to the person who holds the noose about their neck. You are their strength, their pillar to lean on, as it cannot be them. In your mind, it should not be the case that they’d suffer, alone.” – Modern Romanticism There is no beauty in development. Of…
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“Pictures to be taken of a few moments before the final gust pushed itself from her lungs, made as mementos for my eternal keeping. If not to burn of grief, then to always look upon them, even to my own mind, for sight upon memorial. Love sings, with notes of no words added, being of…
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Hidden raindrops,The countless currentsResplendent in the eyes,Awakened with the sun.I am in your gazeAs just a picture, missing its frame,Just a man, without his name. Just a bruise with nothing meantTo cover the inward wound,For I have lost myself in the sandWhen giving treatmentTo your birthUpon the bloody shore. Holding handsWith the ever-growing mightOf this…
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Porcelain droplets,Funereal departure,Shed doubtFrom a heart of moisture,Losing gapsTo cross,On a voyage of stepping stones. I loveThe you, without the girl,Remaining the woman.Raven tress,Golden neck,To the sounds of trainsPassing the guard to your heart. Lifted veil,Holy albumOf differing hymnsTo mythical delights.I hold her in darkness,Flashes of momentsComing crossed for our sins. Kissing in the tunnelOf…
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In the plain shadows,Beneath your fallen eyes,Bleeding and dreamingFor somethingMore than decay,As I am unableTo find the fires soothingWith the wind under my feet,And the clouds parted,To see. I sell too many tears,Finding scarlet where the meadowsWere to the tyrant’s control.Loving veilWith beauty beneath,As you crawl under the silkSoft enough, for the raven’s beakTo pluck…
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I kneel,Hoping for revealOf each timeless wordYou never spoke. There are raven strandsFolded from your head to chin.One beauty laid gentlyOver soil, matching grain,Matching stain,As you left with the tides,The oceanMatching my eyes. Thunder presses from Heaven’s cloudsDotted as orbs atop my head,As scenery comes forth from ductsLeaking contents,Aloud. You were true to my every…
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Returning closerWith each fallen stepTo your empire, beneath Earth,Where coldness suits you,The swimming devils about you.Loving with roses attachedTo my undone fingers,Holding handsWith the sweeping wind,I still reside in the idleness. Knots were my craving of thorns,A beating heart in a circus of heat,Rust upon a mountainSpewing crimson raindrops.Each thing of meWithering to the display…
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“Pride is restricted for the achievement, though only when it bases itself upon selfless acts of objective nobility. Pride is restricted for the self’s own image, though only when it bases itself upon the selfish inactions of both inward and outward negligence.” – Modern Romanticism Freedom corrupts itself when it is taken to the materialistic…
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How many tears can I hold, in arms, that do not carry the future? I cannot even carry the present forward, for I hold the blame in me. I hold the scars close, the present watered from my eyes, with the blue seas around my feet. Land is so far away. Same with daylight. Though,…
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Leave your tearsTo step over,As your heart takes shelterIn arms, warm with your longing,Sharing your sadnessBy each gape of your mouth. I hold a hand to your dust,The angel wings that will not lift,That you might shedFor another mile. Evoke your freedomWith the pieces of your ruin,There is much to love,Of yourself, in the grain.…
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She gave stepsEasily enough,Sought for the same symptomOf loud-beating hearts,Entanglement of voices,Secrets bent on broken wings. Love coils her,A little burn upon her shoulder,With empty, serene instructionOf God, to an assumptionThat life can cross galaxiesWhere secrets do not shatter. Her hands, held out,With the remnants of dolls.Stilled heart, of hersSold waves for the oceanThat lifted…
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Laid gentlyIn arms,Porcelain to the occasionWhere summer has set its final sun,As winter has released a spark,A pluming bit of ashStretched over your mouthWhere comes my tragedy.I pull you intoCloseness, once more. Your beautiful, buried bodyNow leaving this scene of entanglement,While I arrange the flowers in your hair,Dine upon kisses,I do dare. The scene of…
Modern Romanticism 