Anxiety
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Here, we breathe, disaster,With our voices, set on high,As death, surrounds us,And our might, has departed,To a stranded shore. I am in love, only with myself,A blessing, that has made, me wishful,A curse, that has made, me lonesome.What have I, turned upon,Where will I, turn upon,Next, when dining upon, a victim?Will I muse, and take…
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Of stars, to stir through bleak dusk, Down rivers of a trailing tear, A woman raw in flesh, scent in musk, Subtle sigh in mournful fear. She would quell her beating chest, Lay a hand below her chin, As upon her face, a wash of white, To echo a tune in deathly rest, Strangled strings,…
Modern Romanticism 