Grief
-
Make of the torment,What thou will,Make of it.The priests call cues of negligence,Make faces ripe with consequence.And deliver judgement,Like God in deliverance.Oh, woman! A passion of mine. A careful consideration,To what may be beautiful,Has long been beautiful,Beside me, in her endearment.Beauty makes apples,And apples for breasts. I am tired of loathingThe external,Of my sordid disposition,Of…
-
Her face, encased in ice, Winter has made a fine print, Love has been replaced, With a tear. Beauty has been replaced, With a sculpture of ice, And I still draw it close for a kiss.
-
As my arms extend outwards,To reach for what I had lost,There’s only the air,And only a strand of hair,To embrace,I have touched the edge of a bed. I have made my home a nest,Of emptiness.I have become one withLoneliness and grief.It is because of an agony,One with so much melody,Within her gruesome cries,To my eyes.…
-
Take in yourself, The solidness of a new morning, My beloved. Your face is so very wet, With the tears, But I implore you! Do not blame, Yourself, for yourself is too new.
-
As you stand when I layAnd die over me.Tresses so bleak and heavy,As the newborn moon,As tears rain from a face,To see my face barren and white. As white as death,As crude as this soil.I am wrapped in a box,For your weeping. I was in pain,And now, I see your pain.Tears fall like the universe,Should…
-
Love has left me,By the sight of thee,And how beauty has made itself null.Voided by disease and tranquil miseryFor I cannot tell the difference,As all I feel is this stone: – Indeed, a stone I hold in my left hand,Has shriveled to the size of my heart,It is my heart, turned to coal,Is coal a…
-
As a man,The night speaks harder than day.As a woman,I might falter to see the mirror,For fear of seeing what asks to quicken;And I am in pain for it all. I feel tears,More than I allow them to run.I breathe pain,More than I feel it. I sing the song of sadness and heartache,Even more than…
-
Between all stilled forms,Where tension summons up,The most felled-upon,Of sinners.There is you.There is you for the statuesThat seem to weep. They shield their eyes,Unlike you,Because you only stare,At their discarded and frozen bodies. You were loved,Like the tragedy, made to be,Made to be the most hellish curse,Of this newly-won marriage,And a conquered woman you’ve become,Like…
-
Unloved and made for pain,Here is me, made for the world to see,What is death with a breath?What is love without the sigh? With a face once so full of gold,And no more beauty to behold,Angel wings burned,A life upturned,Like mine,And I fell upon a thorn. Sympathy is the reward of the overthrown,Stepped down to…
-
I feel for thee,My worn beauty.Your frail, and vivid form,Shows likeness to me. I find destiny, itching to see,The most heinous parts of us,Broken together, we are soon among death,Failing to remember, beneath bated breath.And your eyes!They revealed the most sickening heartache. You died, with your love entwined,Vast in the many folds, of your long…
-
Beautiful death,With a time, to an hourglass,There is sand, that trickles, past my form,Sculpted, as the David, and crucified,For the sins, of a one.Woman! My love, you are, as death,Never lifted aboveThe closeness, to poverty. With each groan, in savage pain,You remain enticed, by loathing.So much pain,Has crossed, your eager mind.So much shame,Has made itself,…
Modern Romanticism 