Breakups
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Poetry is but a glimpseTo your feeble story.Woman, who was once my beloved,My treasured soul,My song,My emotions,And, my mind;All has now fled far from me. Your eyes, a twinkle of starlight,Beside your cheeks, the porcelain sheetsThat were made as the bed to lay my kisses,Once adorned with pitiful tears. What is the causeTo your untimeliness?Where
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Sometimes, when the scar has seemed to heal,I reject its process to heal,By a singular motion of my right and dominant handTo tear it open,And release the tides upon my feet.I breathe the scent of iron,Soon as emotion is revealed, once again. I wanted to forget,And I wanted to forgive you,And yet, my strength had
Modern Romanticism 