#poets
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Here, stories cryWithin the turning pagesOnwards to the furthest future. As a mile presenting hopeWashes ashore,It drifts in our handsAll the tears with the rose petalsThat would not melt slower,From faces and abandoned vases. At the first page,A blank slate foldsTo each brutal sighFrom the laughing ocean.One that promised another taleTo be told,Without a sweeping
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Let nothing elseBesides the loveComfort us with shadows,Build up our hopesTo the universe’s expanseWithin our non-stop silence.While the moon will attempt to eclipseOur sun, on the night’s behalf,We are warm in the armsThat will last,Wrapped as curtainsIn the bridging veins. With every songSold from our heart,Dying petals will hear usNever faltering to the awakening sound,An
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Show your symptomsFor your faint disregardTo what is stagedAs the props upon the lake,Washed in velvet tears,A material to soakAll of nothing. Sadness reusesBleak waters that crawlTo your knees, given bentTo another source of devotion,With the submissionThat leaves you to drainYour discolored eyes. The sun never warmed you,With it at your back,With heaviness for all
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Here, to fallAmongst you,Bleeding through open doors,Standing there to countAll droplets you have scatteredWith simple stainsUpon the white of cheeks. While all mouthsTo this rotten worldWill call its soundFrom around,Here you dishevel yourselfIn the ignition to anotherContortion of fairnessTo another storm. Left behindUpon the road of weariness,While scars settle with sunsetsFor eyes that create the
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Two faces rejectThe simple state of beingFor the other, among the otherIn the creeping armsThat tear apartThe other. Into distant armsA storied kindness dwells,Made of makeshift consolationWith winter’s backbone,Masking the strength that never comesWith the waves. Simple tears broken apartWith the sliding currentAcross faces made of ivory.Gentle in the cruelest moments,Watered to the dive,Sickened to
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Tame the positionOf one beast who bottledHis sunshine in the hourglass,While time kept us frozenTo observe the past. You were to the worldAll it aimed to ignore,All death desiredTo give birth to,Upon the murky shore. You liveTo keep singingYour pain, for the wildernessWhere isolation grows heaviestUpon leaves made of your disease. Why choose to forget?Why
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Open heartTo the petty gustsBrought forthFrom the heartbroken surge,To the relief that dividesThe heart from grief. There is water in your veins,Bleeding out for the painWe both were singing for,Beneath the immaculate bedsheets.With faces heavy in the weariness,While eyes shower graceUpon hands made of metal. I choose to hold youOut of all other options,For one
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Thin the glassAround your reflected heart.The moon brings wiresFor your defeated connectionTo the gleeful silence. You war with these years,Bleed amongst all shed tears,Though with a kiss in our solitude,All droplets become the oceanFor our bathing. Love leaves for the partingOf another sea,Red with all frozen breath,As water remains clearFor the reflected heart. A moonbeam
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Bleed the sea onwardPast radiant hands,Past where tear droplets fellIn the porcelain meadowWhere nothing growsFrom palms,Holding eternal kissesUpon the heartline. LovesicknessReuses sicknessFrom burial to burialIn the fieldsWhere pain echoesThe soft whimperingOf another taleTold towards the past. A face where sceneryIs darkened by repeatedShadows, upon the twistOf cheeks, laid throughWith kisses, deep. Hold the Heavens down,Enter
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Someone looks backTo see me, a man depletedFor the rays of the sun,To each stinging curveCarved into a heartThat beats without the everythingOnce wielded in the bleeding. Her hope,Razor-sharp against the moon,Mournful with that of criesWhen she doubts. A love that keeps growingAs spring’s nighttime flowers,Above the grain,Reaching in great desperation. Cry for the tempestTo
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Hold this rope,Tie this knot,Weep without knowing whyAll has been broughtTo this moment and occasion,To the face holding steadyThe tears bracing the fall,Upon laps made of stone. Shivering glass in the summerOf a reflection that begins to witherTowards the embrace of autumn.I weep without looking back,Weep without crossing tracksKeeping this flame aliveIn a heart, surely
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How simple it isTo find eyes within a puddle,To stream the ripplesTo your direction.How easy it isTo drown, without realizingI was there, too. How simple it isTo kiss the floating corpse,Without the soulThat merely wanted love.And yet,The broken heart deflated herFrom living breaths,Now to defeated sighs. How easy it always isTo find her strewn clothesTorn
Modern Romanticism 