#poet
-
It is not your faultThe ruins around meResulted from my own hands.Blood has been spilledTo temper these walls.My own. Structures still so resilient,By the outlying current.Sadness recedesMe, back to where ISay I can denyAll the love I cannot feel. Upon your eyesA certain coldness resides,That I cannot seem to hideFrom bleakest reality. For you burn…
-
Sprout thee,Delicate majesty.Your face is sculpted for meTo see. The storm you wash meIn bedeviled tranquility,Has me wander,Has me breatheThe whisking fantasiesBeneath moonlit ecstasies. Can this love be pure,Upon your frail form?Can you see the tides we createOn winter’s life, swept?Like white curtains atopYour barren, black eyes,A bleak sunsetShrouded by frost. I have come to…
-
To you,For you,Can you wear the rain?My love,Petal yourselfIn these stains.My heart cloaks itselfIn the cold,Wearing a shroud of darkDelicate and old. I want to come to kissThose very pearls about your neck.Your lifeIs marked by the fallen dropletsFrom the withered rose,That I am. You are allTo the nothing I am.I am just a manWith…
-
Finding faultWhere ruin liesIn the wakeful rain,Where blue sheds with blue,As storms reside above the mist,While life hangs a curtainBefore the dreadful hour. Two weeks close endless chapters,Laden in everlasting warmth.But, to touch would mean to fear,If not to die. I live on the wiresOf imagined contact,Beyond the wavesTo pierce the haze. My love lies,…
-
A fever warms you,Yet my arms cannot touch you.The outline of your formIn the debris that nestles youHas me cry with the fallingOf snow, in the haze. I cannot evenGraze a cheek.I cannot evenTouch a lip,While yours grow oldIn the welcoming dark.I cannot evenHold a handThat trembles. Fear blossomsBleak petals,Between these floorboards.I speakFrom across this…
-
She starts to rememberHow the ocean began,Of naked tears, to outdrawn fears,Little more than a scratch upon the skyTo cause this downpour,Forming the largest puddle. She starts to rememberHer heart, bleeding wide open,As a doorway, without barrier,Without restriction.How much she loves in the morning,With eyes full of dew!How much she lives in the evening,Broken, yet…
-
How great to liftTragedy to majesty,Concealed by the curtainsOn greatest defeat.Your life has smoldered in winter,Drowned of ashes,Then to ashes, you return.Black decay has been your flavorTo comprehension. I hold your hand in my burning own,Gaping this palmWith the brightest, embedded nail.I die for the horrors you keep,As my mind has stung,While my heart still…
-
PossessedBy a certain loneliness,As was the creed of you,The ruleTo which you were bound,Like the book with hardest cover,Not to the truth of its pages.Yet, I love what dropsFrom the wreath above your head,As leaves to the Autumn awakening.Here, your lips stream the pathFor your feet, to my weakened arms. Go across,Speak this name of…
-
Belonging is the houseOf unrequited belief,Where flies are swattedFrom lips, so pallid,Beneath the storm, weaved byTheir leper hands.I saw how they pierced the airWith their fingers,Just as the curtain beforeThe blinded bride. I saw the space between them,As they drunk in the firelightOf enemies so old in the night.Belonging in the house,To worship something of…
-
This lifeHolds you againstThe fever,This scornWhere dust mires you beneathShadows above shelter,Kisses from God. I wish to loveWithout watching you,Staring acrossGuiding tragedies,Tremoring streets,Leaving dust to settleUpon those frozen lips. Calling lionsTo erase the guiltI have to faith,Of Heavens stooped in fervor,Where passion displacesSound from travelling sound,Love from senseless love. Pointless heartsAre the case of lovers,Whose…
-
I yearnWhile the moons crossHazes upon the misty fields,To you,Listening to your heartWith its extended reverberationsTo my unforgotten vows. I hear youAcross the blueWaves, we’ve come across,Has been our barricade to an eternity,In arms.Is it an empty spaceOr our time to speak? Of loss and requiem,Come toBandage the tears that roamFrom East to West,From pain…
-
How can we hold this shelterHigh above our heads,As tears float upon puddles,While our hearts quakeWith the Earth? Are we to love,As angels, destined to igniteInto ashes, into stardust?How can weWhen the pain remainsWith our trembling fingers? You want to say we have lived,Yet the ruins around us,Prove otherwise.Another solitary kissBeneath a hazy moon,Cannot cease…
Modern Romanticism 