Creative
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How is pain felt? Is it not like the storm gathered in its heaviest gray? Would the gray remain for long, before letting loose what it has carried, being of its rain? Are we not the same in what we dispassionately yearn to be rid of? It is that brief moment of logic where we
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Love has a way of sharing textures Soft as the snow we roll in. I have held the many tears for my consumption, I have breathed the stars into her eyes, I have felt the world shudder in her arms, For that world was our own. From rains, We fall Into a void made to
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A breath for a bird,To keep her wings afloat. A guide for a smile,To keep it going for the while. I need the prettiness of her aged beautyTo mimic the skies never to part,When I keep it together. I feel the worship of my hands, upon her skin.There is fire raised, from each touchTo forge
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There are days to sayThat the world can go away,Leaving us from its dismay.We twist stems from the shortest tulipsAdorning the cotton fields.We twist ourselves, the stemsAnd bury ourselves in arms. Close as the world is awayFrom us, in its utter dismay.I am the blood, craving a coldness,While you are the Hell craving a true
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Why can I not Wrap myself in the rope that engirdles you? You are defined by the night, As I am defined by you. Each love seems to float For varied persons Towards Heaven, As it is where failings go. So the blood did boil? And, did it overflow? Did your pain raise to the
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Why wait until it rains? What we can feel from each other In this hailstorm of pain, Is enough for the drink. Love seems to falter in the wind, Bringing its tears in the form of falling droplets, For there are clouds as gray as lead above your head, Though I’ll trust my love to
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There is not much to call home In your arms. Like a furnace, you’ve grown bright, And have burned all to ash Around you. Like a star, you’ve shone With the lantern about your neck Swinging by a rope. Like an angel, you’ve flown Over cities and seas, vast as the universe, But no one
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Alessio had retreated, departing from a beauty made for wandering eyes, and he is now questioning the moment. Beauty left a trail for him to follow, and he followed blindly. He followed, with eyes upon the back-end of her form, because he was unable to see anything for recognition’s sake. He dreamed of her that
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Lay down the padsThat seem to undo, the petals and their dew.Release wetness, from between pillars,And release sadness, from between veinsWhere velvet flesh consumes its own bread. Lay yourself downOn this bed made of milesOf stones.Sin is but a release to the passionBetween two, in excitement.We feelWhat should not be felt,And have felt,What now we
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Bleed the skies wide open To where I caught the token Of your heavenly face. It was but a tear, That did smear The shadow from your bleak and melancholy Expression In your gaze, While I am under the haze. Let tranquility be a part of me, Let the thunder strike so delicately The areas
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Let me enthrall The washed out areas at your feet, For they plead Ever-more than you did. Your gaze has caught a thorn in my eye. When I bend down to reach, A flood spills over. There is soil needing its space to be filled, There is a plot of land necessary for a grave
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How far is your heart buried Beneath the saddest moon With the widest frown? I stilled the eclipse in your broken mind. I threw all behind The dirt beneath your feet. I stayed the shame From eroding your fame. Your sweetness Is upon the rose to your lips. I bleed with honor, Even more than
Modern Romanticism 