#poets
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It is nothing to praise, My love, Nothing more than something I’ve withdrawn from the sun. Just a teardrop for a flame I’ve made To wrap your finger In tightest bond.
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Bit the naked curveFor where you swervedInto the collision of reprimand,Within the sightFor who did demandThe sunset to be elsewhere,If not in the rotting circus. Cheers,Jeers,Disembarked tearsWash on the roadOf everyone’s fears.Weeping for milesCurvaceous,For symptomatic whiles. While love poursFrom a heartOf no one’s kind,Heartless death keeps you nearTo bleed with the tears,Razor sharp, with the
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Watching you glide in circles,Massage the skiesIn your great, weeping familiarDroplets, from immaculate eyes. You have feltThe creeping dark,Too heavilyFor the pathwayTo the spark. Lies draw your eyesInto circles,Beneath, where sleep recedesInto aching weariness. Waters leaveAs music captures your innocenceIn heartbroken memories,Beside the tides. You lostAt the final costOf a stroke to the windWith your
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Temptation in the understandingWith hollow footstepsEmbedded in where you bled,Wired against where you sleptBefore the rise of a sunWithin crystal eyes. Tears drink the shapeOf consolation,Gravity has found you to shakeIn the blood of the earth.You have walked towards denial,Bottled as a message in the sand. Without pause,Without causeAs a drifting curtain cries over you.Fulfillment
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Wash me,Cloak meIn wounds so unforgivable,While disaster repeats itselfIn the mileage,In the morningWhere beauty clings to curtains,Drowns in the flood of sunlightOver the weeping moonlight. Walk with me,Want with meTo the frozen gesturesWe’ve left behind,Dining on the death of the otherIn hearts, to be torchesBroken into sparks. Winter feeds,While summer leavesThe shores to shudder themselvesIn
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Beautiful scar uponThe repeated soil, where you keptSealing a heart to the crustOf fire, for a face that weptThe ocean into repeated soundsWith desolation on the horizon,As voices seem to die outWith the cold breath,With the warm death,While love’s future seems so specific,Inside of life, so horrific. Washing our wounds, to part,Healing our hands, to
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Something limits,Has displacedOur togetherness, from the faces,The surges, the urgesOf pleasure,To deepen romance,To recreate extravaganceIn the delicate sheenTo your form. Can you not fall,Before I see you coated in sudsWithin the bathtubFor your cleansing? All have deserted you,Left you strewn as a phantom,Alone in the dust,Wilting in the brush. Your face,Pleasing the beyond,Holding headstones as
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Herein,You loveWith gifts made to forgetEach twisted facetYou’ve yet to overcome.By sight or by sound,With rooms to decorate, aroundThe center of a vivid fieldBetween us. I can hold your hand, forever.Will you releaseThe tiny tortures you cling to?Pain being a memory,While eyes seal in eternity. Precious stonesFor the crust of a scarSeem to wait,While you
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Learn to undoAll of life’s popularitiesIn the obscene and crude,In the placementOf a kissUpon rotting lips. Her pages,Keen and stale.Her back,Broken of spine.Her eyes,Weening in sheen.Her loss,Fallen upon mine. While covers blanket bodies,As the wind curls her hair.While life is, itself, strickenIn modest deception,There is she who enters,So fair. Fallen upon empty tracks,Blank pages,Inkless lipsWhere
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Ignorance,Not the blissWithout the kiss,Without the petalsOf sweet, grateful redAgainst the mouth of the oneWho told youTo enter. What want,What capturing decadence,What life,As what a loveThat broke through a stormTo create a vowThat would always growThe face,From the clouds. I will loveUntil the final shredOf sunlight, leaves this earth.Even then,I will love onWith your spirit
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Can we forget,Can we displaceOurselves from the in-between,As we burn onWith iron in our bloodstream?Our love,As eyes are upon the skies,Stealing starsFor the existence of the moon,LoyallyCoveting the dark. Holding on,With sunlight never too staleFor us to make pale,With our fingers staining the afterlifeOf our conscious desires.Your faceBeaming in the twilight,Burning of lips,Emblazoned of auras,Sunset
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How cometh the rainWhen all falls down in pain,When the rapids swarm knees,During the wash of old tears?Blood runs,Though nothing bleeds,Hearts hurt,While everything kneelsAmong this blackish terrain. Within our eyes,Where storms are our companions,Love reigns,As the heart rains.A great mixtureOf grief and disbelief,A potencyOf sorrow and the denialThat we are here. Give me rain,As you
Modern Romanticism 