Darkness
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Chapter One “From the eyes of an angel, the black one, there are no more wings to look at. It is even when the sun is out or the moon is full, that the light does not come to her. In the darkness, in her own, there is only the recognition of a sheer blackness
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You surround yourself in an ebony shield,An ebony garb, made by your loathing.It feels to me like a weight upon my palms,For I am the one who holds it close,Like a man without the groping tensionOf one perpetual shame. Disease and wine swim well with the other,How famous we are, when in love,But never so
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She’s not in danger,Not beneath me, the ruler to herNaked empire; of boats upon smooth silk,Of a navy that is swept in maddening windsThat speak in coldness of words.Whispers that threaten and attemptTo subdue that which I desire.They are voices from a different place. She’s not in danger,She, the woman whom I seek to gain,As
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Romance, in thy very eyes,How devilish are those very tresses,That lash thy keenest neck,That raises to even keener eyes.I have perception to see thy wickedness,And a mark I’ve burned into thy skin. Where would God tell us to roam,When in this embrace?We have failed among Saints, who had watchedOur faltering.We failed God in His expectancy.
Modern Romanticism 