Heaven
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I crawl and dwell,Where faces embrace my Hell.Where love is most potent,Is where my misery is frenzied. There are demons in this place,This wasteland of remembrance.This place so small,I wish it would grow tall. I am a husband to misery.It is because of how late the fallen eveningHas begun.Roses sprout along the sides of walkways.Am
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Father, have you lifted,Away from the pain I now share,With a world so very bare? It is because I have done as you asked,And cared for another among a divisionOf untimely selfishness. Is it wrong to despise someone,Who loves only themselves?This world has no promise of love. And yet, I make what I canFrom the
Modern Romanticism 