#poets
-
Always sunlight, always the pathThat never stretches far in your wandering.A trail you have left for the swath,Droplets of blood, outside the cage.Your wings remain afloat,While your head falls with the stars.Can you count the dreams,Those details you hurled from the page? Sickness would have you rest.Did you ever smileDuring the turn of every whileWe
-
Apart from the sun,As the seasons come undoneTo reveal where teardrops fellAs anchors to the fetid mist.Your arms in the rain,In the attempt to drench the pain. Tied together in savage looseness,While winter ceases the hailThat Springtime had called down – Upon your displayed frown.You forever wish to decayMore than either leaves or Heaven.With clasped
-
As the day weepsUpon two pebbles, barely asleep,Eyes have shut of a newbornWhose first word could not reachThe face of his twin,While cold blankets smother a flameBandaging the sadness of his kin.Burns to carve the marksIn pain, in the embedded stain. She has been to himAn everything drawn at the pen,To contours tracing each weathering
-
Call closeness about,Wrapping shadows withoutA step to keep us silentOn the path that keeps us bleedingIn our state of violentSignals that keep crossing – As we do, over lines.Find the bottom to these waters,For dancing stones in wasted times – We knelt at the earth, together,Leaving our floods,Our hearts, become hardened. To love, without breathing
-
Like two strips of white,We have crossed the burial marksOnce to divide our safekeepingIn arms, pulled apart within the night.We hold, to find our song always glued;As we kneel, with lips that find their breath – For each other’s unwarranted death,With each blessing we always knew. Answers, within those fair dropletsThat fall to your choice
-
Each edge to the fullest rose,With petals razor sharpTo re-open wounds that never close,Wash with blood the mouthRepeating words of profanity.While the earth thundersAt everything Hell can sunder,Death re-uses the heart becoming ash – At the twisted sound, the heartbeats clashed.Her tears swarm the halo’s light,Raising from someplace out of sight. I can burn the
-
I addressed the cloudThat faltered to collectAs to its fear,For it was the blackest of sheep.No heaviness in thunder loud,While tears fled from armsThat pulled me from harms. Journeys upon the ice,Sleeping to whispers that entice.With wind to the ears – A sigh for what never steers,While isolation kept me findingRoads out, among futures rewinding
-
Hold wide this frame,Weeping in silent shame,Pulling apart what captures the silenceInside wood and brittle stone.A canvas, a face for cruelest violence.Tears hit each blade of grassWith no pause at the hands they pass,While winter motions the grail – To unite red with the clear,The porcelain from eyesDraining the white – Towards the spot where
-
Holding teardrops as melted waxOn fingers gentle for eyes, detached.A view displaced, on its side,Crossed at the roads, at the weary feet,With blindness that never saw tearsShattering the newborn mirror.A defeated reflection that could hideAt the bliss for all being matched. Here, the train exits the hands,Leaves for the graceless funeral.There, the waters were leavingWhile
-
I threw eyes to her wings,Duality upon the dullest of bladesThat concealed what hurt her,That threw fog upon what connected herTo each room where shadows fade.To comfort, in her bloodstreamsBlooming from where farewells screamThe same tone love sings – Down the ripples of a curtainTowards her open mouth,Backwards where scenery begins. Blackest feathers correct the
-
Wandering through shallow brooks,Weeping from stares, these hollow looksTo a brighter rinse of starsThat could cleanse the blood from hooks.Lay this heart upon a stepping stone,Upon the spot where feet were forever shownMarching for ideals to warsClogging this heart, apart from reality – That the smeared stepKept being rinsed with what we kept.The marks beneath
-
Keep stealing your name from water,As the reflection will keep you smothered.Keep crystal to the soaring sunshine,Capturing the next pageFor wilting scenery.I had kissed the finest of lips,With ashes all to taste – To red, coated in the gray sublimeMelting through, in carried wasteWithin hands, onto haste. Quickness to the dropletsThat defeat the oceanIn vast
Modern Romanticism 