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Yellow daffodils,In raining glory from sun’s holy rays,Are there to eclipse the rain,Of truest blue,To spill forth sadness onto my skin,From wherever pain breeds,In a nest, in a heart,In a place where is shelved all that is kept. Of all your beauty,Where plays the music of a throbbing heart,Where comes the torment of a woeful
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To Man, his submission is to be pulled down from clouds. Why say it is a societal teaching to never see Man weep? It is not so, for his emotions, when released, are divided between sadness and anger. For the former, his emotions are those ambitions, with his mind raised in the clouds, until when
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There’s a famous way to recreate,What has always deprived my soul,Of recollection;Of the memory that sitsOn the crown of thorns above my brow,It drips smallest droplets,Of vermilion, to my tongue.What do I taste?I taste a love so sweet, and still, so bitter,I taste my failure raising from a daunting Hell,And I feel my beloved’s breath
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There is nothing so gentle,As the woman claiming to beThe certainty for herself.I offer condolence,And she falls on her handsAnd knees, to kiss the toes,Of a man who has allowed her to escapeFrom a pain, from a fate that was callingHer, to come away.From her eyes, rained many tears. Only a ruined soul, to this
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Dragged at my feet,Is the unforgiving rope.Binding me, and blinding me,Because I cannot stand,And so I need aid,To be able to see,All that I have corrupted for me,Beyond the grief from the sea. You would deny me all?Reach into me, to see sweetness,And then know bitterness?I have a heart that has stopped,I reach my hands
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I fall between two stems,Where petals grow upon the inside,And feel warmth that burns throughThe emptiness I’ve long gathered. Petals, I’ve gathered,And thorns I’ve grown.Some tune of a Devil’s defeat,Upon a man’s last word. I blew the kiss that would hit the flame,And she mocked its nestling on her cheek.Death fans her screams,As lust drains
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Beauty’s empire, or beautiful empire,Has arrested its attention upon the Earth.Many treks are walked to see it,And a one, a woman is there to embrace it.I have offered it,As I have extended it.I was not the one who voided it,As much as it displeased her. I have a fit torment,To walk in her shadows,Created by
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As I weep,Her power is still overcomingEach shed drop.I still love, with a breath that cannot stillItself, with her fragrance,Her own breath, a spice and a rose,And a blush to her cheek,That I cannot tell to be,Embarrassment or pleasure. Face in my palms,And beauty has now possessed me.I weep a newborn tear,To let my feet
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Pleasure me with the face of roses,And feed me your graces,Long, was your tresses, made of ebony.Stone-like, is your heart, and made of the same.Find me next to nectar,Let us leave the sacred altar,And play nude in the mud.Children are ignorant, while question is their infinity. My beauty with stains of descent,Upon soil, where your
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Up from deprivation, I’ll begin, to raise thee,To my contemplation, I have seen, to pull thee,By my regret, I have not been, to free thee,From a slumber, from a pain, from a madnessThat should only, be known, to me.Why should thou feel, when I am only, to suffer?Such confuses me,Whenever I see thee,Born with tears,
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Beauty has marked my way,By dismembered flesh.This is a tale of remembrance,To one loss, that pined my heart.One that left me aching,One that left me wanting. Oh, father. When shall you return?Grief has left me with stainsOf the countless struggles beneath swaying grass,And petals that fall to my hands,Leave me to count the steps, if
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With desire, feed me wine,Among pain, make yourself as mineBeneath sheets that fade away thy purest form,As all angels weep above in their enclosure. For I have destined myself,To wed myself,With yourself, a queen of a night,A desire and a might. You have felt the sin,To which we ran the watersOver our palms,And over the
Modern Romanticism 