Quote – “The Third Reason to Cry: Out of Love” – 8/18/2020

“It is out of love that we weep not solely for misery, not solely for joy. These are tears that do not stain us, nor are they ones that we can easily forget. They are tears to merely remind us. Of what? Of what we are, truly at the center of ourselves. Loving ones. We build a shelter full of memories, constructing a heart out of gold. We say we are weak, that we are strong, in that residence of a heart. For as we stand like bronze, our tears come as silver, while our hearts are resplendent in gold that never wilts so long as we are structured, so long as we can break.”

– Modern Romanticism

Quote – “Why Today’s Pride should be Resented” – 5/27/2020

“There is no interpretation of pride, left to be subjective on what the cause was for being proud. As in, even to be subjective on a subject means to dissect meaning. What does one question of the right thing to do? No one does. Who questions the son who saves his mother from the burning house? Who questions the father who saves his daughter from being raped? Who questions the soldier in saving their own comrade? Idiocy questions this, because idiocy believes these deeds were choices. To be subjective, means to dissect. To dissect, means to question. To question, means to be confused, and thus, such confused people will look upon familiarity as though it is alien. What, as it should be asked, is so unfamiliar about doing right for someone else?

Therefore, to be proud of doing right, means to have done right for what it made of someone else, not what it makes you.”

– Anonymous

A Quote – “Love is a Great Human Interest” – Romance – 2/6/2020

“Love is the stillness of captivation. Before the eyes of familiarity, we are enthralled. We open to them, with arms that only ever close, when they are shut around the beloved. But, what makes love eternal? It must be when their presence is non-existent. We remember the beloved, even when they should only be in the next room. We remember them, beyond death, to the next day.”

Poem – “Her Skin Among the Embers” – Romantic

Your rarity, on thine loving lips,
Lay kisses, upon where I sit,
Go crawl in misery, on death ships,
Bask in embers, of fires lit.
I would watch, those hands, cover tears,
To imitate, a sleeping body,
You could face, the dawn as night,
Sink under trauma, of the years,
But searing embers, raise the study,
Of lifeless voids, piercing blight.

For the embers, awoke my sense,
Tears slide, off a pale cheek,
The want of joy, is my defense,
Those eyes, of sadness speak.
I have written volumes, in your name,
Scorn is drowning, your tongue,
Misery’s grief, are those words,
In each tress is mournful shame,
Robes of priests, you are clung,
Wrath for children, grief affords.