Beauty
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Her ethereal,Becomes commonplace,When as the witness,To the sight of depravity. The sight of God,Too bright,For wicked stains,Of blight,To make a grand performance,For the mark of love. She has the form of an infant,But the exquisiteness of the priestess.She has the desires of Eve,And the embellishments of Adam. She has the warmth from the sun,Though, the…
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Your shielding hands do not wash tears, But merely keep your face hidden from the crudeness, Of my blatancy. Of balance and form, of folded wings that burn.
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The apocalyptic shadow,Of my eminent devastation.My salvation,Could not have come sooner,By the noose,To the box. To the soil, and attempt to rejoin,What I had lost.Was she lifted?Was she granted,The heart of God, of any God, of any faith,Rather than my own, for I failed? Indeed, I failed, as was my wont.Accustomed to failure,And now, she…
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Unloved and made for pain,Here is me, made for the world to see,What is death with a breath?What is love without the sigh? With a face once so full of gold,And no more beauty to behold,Angel wings burned,A life upturned,Like mine,And I fell upon a thorn. Sympathy is the reward of the overthrown,Stepped down to…
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Your tears know deeply, my futility,My shameful passion that I exalt, so easily.You have beauty running over youAs years of worn flesh. You have eyes that run nakedThe tears of a yesteryear. Of a past so dormant as the lastTime you had poured a tear from a velvet eye.Of all times where denial roams,I am…
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The most beautiful of orchids,Has soon met her fate,By a dying rose,Upon her somber face. Her sorrow reaches to the Earth’s end,Away from my trembling hands.Disease and pestilence, are my only reward,For my fleeing from safety. Her number grew gradually,Among the rotten many.The many poor to which she brought herself,Low, for a kiss,Flooded London’s districts,…
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I bathe myself in your splendor,And stoop myself under the light of your smile,I savor the breath that comes off as sweet,And drink deeply from all victims of mine. I am, and will always be, my own enemy.I am tremendous, in how I own myself,But I am a pitiful beast, with no mark.I place myself…
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Why have I felt, the need, to break,And unbind the fortune, of love?Where there is so much, to behold,I see tears, streaming precious gold,I see a face, made with ivory,Though, bendable like silver. Your face quivers, from the gentlest touch,And show creases of misery, from the widest brush,A face of no sympathy, that I behold,For…
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The colored rainbow possesses each of the following colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The missing colors are black, white, and pink. Between life, is birth and death. They each represent the color of black. Black is the color of fertility. A woman’s body is land. Land is fertile when dark. Land…
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Q: In what manner is love absent from the discontented person? A: The continual desire for change, creates the most related word to change, and that word is “discontent”; and the most related word to “discontent”, is “hatred”. That is because “hatred” when seen without negative expression upon it, is a word that defines “change”.…
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With fewest steps to climb,In an amorous avalanche of emotion,Wandering upwards, to where a faceGlistens, and has been frozen.I, with marble, in hand,Smear its molten material upon thee,And make thee a face of beauty and frailty,Because, I have come from the realm of love. Eyes gilded as sapphires,And lips swiped upon, with rubyPaint; and listless,…
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Oh, so open, is my heart,To the currents beneath my feet.I have fallen in love with death,And released the veil from its eyes.Death has shown me a profound pleasure,An old song of ribs used as chimes. Beautiful, though vainly spoken,What beauty? What mercy resonates in it?Have I once loved? Where is the light?Death surrounds me…
Modern Romanticism 