Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

Poem – “Nothing but the Pain I Feel” – Romance

August 8, 2019
romanticindeed

Beloved,
With scars so engraved,
Am I able to dig them out?

Am I am able to see,
That which has muddled thee,
By the sin we both breathe,
In bitter misery?

Bandage these sores,
For they’ve accumulated,
Vast swarms of flies,
Longing to feast.

I have failed my own God,
The woman I adored,
And now see tragedy,
Upon my doorstep.
He calls himself, “Death”,
And fails to see mercy,
Unless that is his wish,
One I am too blinded to see.

Females in their term of turmoil,
Enemies have betrayed them.
I feast and dine upon wine,
Upon the blood of a youthful swine,
One of which I call “mine”.
Until bones are ashes under the guise of time.

Berate me, now and forever,
The wickedness, now and forever.
Scold me, now to forever,
Be unkind, now to the ever.

I am no man,
Just a feeble form,
Grown old by his bones,
And broken by stones.

Poem – “Blinding Tears, and Blinding Rage” – Depression

August 1, 2019
romanticindeed

I am seated, with my head in my palms,
And I ponder to myself over what I’ve lost,

Besides another tear.

Another tear,
Another flake to the ashes,

Another memory to the burial,
Another fragment from the heavy weight
Seemingly lost, and now,
The Earth possesses it.

Of blinding tears, and blinding rage
That seems to be all I feel.

As my emotions are frenzied,
Between these two voids,
These two bleak confusions,
These two natural diseases.

Failure stings as much as it bleeds.
Wounds are nestled on my heart,

Guilt has wrapped itself
Around my tired form.

My form, vivid in all its gleaming,
Of all wounds with ragged flesh.

I would never be proud,
Of anything I’ve conquered,
On either fertile shores,
Or watery deserts.

Love once made its way to my mind,
By a singular path
;
It drew so many marks,
On where I allowed it to roam.

And now a mirror blocks my path.
It is my own path;

And a path, with such a mirror
That shows my face.
Revealing death, I see two eyes like orbs of steel,
Made present in what they reveal.

A face of ruby, and a heart of stone.
A man of no mercy upon his tired body.
I draw emptiness around,
Like a frigid cloak taken from a tundra,
Love, at my left hand,
Death, at my right.

And I collapse them, together.

Poem – “The Weight upon my Palms” – Romance

July 29, 2019
romanticindeed

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 tension
Of one perpetual shame.

Disease and wine swim well with the other,
How famous we are, when in love,
But never so graceful as when we are drowning
In a current of pain and denial.

Have we love to behold?
Have we the moment captured?
Oh, beauty. Among you, there are flowers to rain
The petals and their thorns, on the soil
At my feet.

There’s much that is missing,
From your stagnant heart, that does not beat.
There’s much that is needed,
Beneath this moon that is full of color
Belonging to glaciers from the North,
And sorrow from a mother.

Find our way to love, we will do,
Of daylight and nighttime, as both become
The celestial landscape, upon plains of ivory, now.

Love, with your eyes under lashes,
And a pair of nostrils that breathe the fragrance
Of death and its eternal playground.
I shall come to love, and love, for eternity.

Poem – “My Love; My Strength, My Weakness” – Romance

July 18, 2019
romanticindeed

Where should I fathom myself,
Upon the furthest glacier that remains stagnant,
To the most nurturing of moons?
Blessed beauty, you’ve seen me,
And my fingers are broken.
And you’ve seen me, too,
With eyes that are swollen and red.
I’ve wept the nights away.

I’ve also felt strength alike a god,
And you’ve seen that, too.
I’ve died repeatedly,
For what I believe, truthfully.
The love we behold, in buried hands,
Beneath earth that sings a merry tune,
Of death and ashes,
We love with anguish and mercy.

Your eyes are dark and strange,
Your face so wild and vague.
You have tears that come from nowhere,
And blood that streams from everywhere.
I am in love with you, the kind I adore,
The beauty, I as well, abhor.
You make listless connections,
Wherever you find to be dearest.

I am the denial,
The worshiped nothing,
The god of no hands,
The man of no welts.
No bruises, no beatings, upon my shoulders,
There is only the strength I cling upon,
For our own surmise,
I am in love, with only, myself.

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