Family
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I see thee, upon a land so muddy, in the blood of sorrow,You’ve never, held onto happiness, for long.Here, I yearn, to be the one,To cradle your defeat, in longest arms, and trembling fingers,I fathom your emptiness, a lot likeThe families of sickness, in nations heavy, on poverty. We’ll not fall, with the tears, that
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In all my imagining,While haunting memory is the musicTo my mind in its longing,I find myself to view a paintingThat shows the curves of a naked woman,While her lips are reddenedBy the blood offered in my hands.Would I reach to kiss? I desire the wine, next,For a mask is only a shapeTo what has gaped
Modern Romanticism 