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Before me, you sit with a sorry stare at a rimTo a glass made of the fibers of sand,Love is a breath in the air for our breath,As sweet as the redness in your hairAnd as bitter as the very sight of death,As the very sight of what sticks out in your mind. A face
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I crawl atop, And I falter beneath, The swimming tears in eyes of emerald, Your face is the picture of immaculacy, In this dreaded room. Come kiss me, beloved, With all your majestic might, This future has never been doomed, Because, as I see above, I see also the night. I see the stars and
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Lay with me, as the world sunders itself, Go beyond with me, to the lines that seem themselves To surrender, and surrender more To the tragedies and comedies of love. We are, in arms, crying and laughing, beautiful as one, In our eyes, we hold sweet nectar, And also, Bitterness to the wetness That smear
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Glaring devotion, seems to Keep you So warm. From loyalty, to that burning furnace, Upon bed sheets made of fans, To frenzy the flame, That spreads over your gloss, A shimmer to your form. There is beauty crawling atop, All the fragrance that has me Succumb to it. There is nothing so tragic, As to
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There is love in the air, And not much to share. There is love in the air, And not much to wear. There is hatred upon our lips, And too much to bear. There is hatred upon your lids, Drawn down like curtains, Bruised into black and blue, Like nude drapery with tears Upon the
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I long, and simply long, For scent of longest hair, and eyes of furthest stare, We are but two forms upon this Earth, With steps so shallow in the mud, And faces so tranquil, As though starving buds, with quivering temples, And blasted bodies, By the wind and sand. I am in love, and have
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Make a smile, for a token, to see love eternal,Our moment cannot be stale,In the haze of fear, without a paradise to conquer,Without a home that we cannot seeItself to age, alike to us, and we’ll not remain young.No love, not even the right sort,Has ever conquered time,I will see beauty perish, and see your
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I am in your arms,With lashes numbered sevenFor each of those studious eyes.Like the beauty made mother,Blessed to be another.You have fires roaring within,And elegance soaring out.Here’s my heart for you,For your kiss, and your shining eyes,The most a stare can behold. I am the Devil of a man,With a Fall that was broken,By the
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Romance has bequeathed us,With idealist temperament,Our auras are there to transfixThemselves, upon the Earth’s emptiness.I see you, with face so full of forgiveness,And no more, but the treasure bespoken. I was the giant,The man who smashedThe many insects at my feet.I am but the insect, now,With a diamond I present, freely,For it is my own
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Plentiful scares,From thy keenly attitude,Set me into eruption,Because, in contrast to a face,One that resembles a magnificent angel,A bird, with one color for its entirety,There is, to your person,The attitude, one akin to a pirate?One akin to a lumberjack?I mark it in place, when I laugh. It boils, and broils,It falters the moon and sears
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The world once breathed,An amorous note.A void now breathes,A place where branches spiral downwards,To one velvet opened mouth. Lay your feet across my palms,And swear to me, in truth,To face the world with that same openness. You see, I once had nothingFor myself.You are my truest accomplishment,On my deserted little island,Of no sun. And now,
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I am something abominable,Am I not?The fool who had wavered himself,From holiest truth.Though, not more will I runFrom thee.From you, from treasured beauty. I run a faucet for you to bathe,And to cleanse all that has pollutedThe corners of your weathered mind. Beloved, come to dine,Upon all of me,There is naught, but the hopeless remnants,Of
Modern Romanticism 