Loneliness
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“To tell one race that they’re the only sufferer from prejudice, is always equivalent to saying upon someone that they should feel alone in their suffering.” – Modern Romanticism How would anger not be the trigger to an immense feeling of loneliness, especially one so encouraged, upon a specific race? Is not the cure to
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“It is never that a person feels pain for what is present, though rather for what is absent.” – Modern Romanticism
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“No perception can be, without the necessity to share it. Loneliness remains as a human’s greatest torment, in the realization that we have no one to speak to, about what we’ve seen. For what use is there for a library, if there is no readers? There’d be no books, if the author had no second
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“We are lonely of the heart, not of the form, when we have lost what the form will collapse, without.” – “To not Sink a Friend”
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There was once a time when the poetry I wrote possessed much feeling. Now when I write them, the feelings only bleed out, rather than erupt like a geyser. I rarely feel the “chills” I usually get when listening to my favorite songs, nor do I cry like I used to. I enjoyed weeping when
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“Sometimes the company of evil people, is better than the preference of loneliness.” – Naruto, Gaara of the Sand
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“When we love, we realize there is more to the world than simply ourselves. For if all we knew to repair was ourselves, we may as well live alone on some deserted island, never seeing any other reflection besides our own. In the glassy waters of the ocean, we will peer into them on that
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What worldEver wielded, aside from the one stained in black?Longing is our token, to betterment,Away from the association of togetherness.Like love, mistaken for a parasite,Like loss, perceived to be foremostIn line. A coming mileIs not what we walk.It only holds us to reap a new darknessThat is the one behind. In arms, delicate and un-moving.We
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Love all, when I call,You, to the furthest cliffs,And say, that you will stay,To speak true words, of no dismay.People seem, and also scream,To force cues,To force signs,To places full of danger,Will you be the one, to fulfill,The only one, who has become still? Your beauty is where I mark unknowns,To a center I say
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Beloved, to describe what is before me,Would perhaps offer me,What to me, craves the plenty –The multiple aspects to your beauty.And as I sit before you, and before my gaze,Towards your marvelous captivity,You show to moon and star,A gaze full of idle awakeningTo what thumps a rhythm in your golden heart,Broken away, are those fragments
Modern Romanticism 