Prose
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Memories are there for the mind to soak itself, in waters so murky or translucent, that feelings will continue to haunt and create sensations for the body to feel. Alessio is feeling upon this day the pain of hardness. Though, it is in a meditative state. For he is sitting with his eyes buried in…
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Memories are there for the mind to soak itself, in waters so murky or translucent, that feelings will continue to haunt and create sensations for the body to feel. Alessio is feeling upon this day the pain of hardness. Though, it is in a meditative state. For he is sitting with his eyes buried in…
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Love is the most important universe for the star. For the simplest sake of finding himself least important, least to be recognized as weak, a man will, or should, send himself into a whirlwind to protect the endangered. For love’s sake, beauty is contented to show itself. A star, like the many of them, is…
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Frenchman, and a hardened veteran to a life of loss, as each thing lost had always been familial to him. His mother, drowned. His father, dead by his own hand. There comes to this Frenchman, a lesson learned in love, through the eyes of a beautiful woman. Of a sudden, his heart opens up, like…
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Love is radiation. Intended to spread its presence over those trusting of it. What do we have of love, other than simple belief? We believe in love to do the right thing. It is never expected to manipulate, and then ask for something in return. Love, when denied, creates Hell. One sinks, without love. One…
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She has controlled her beauty with evenness. Symmetry within every detail, and symmetry, especially among her smile. I have asked myself a question, if love would be the thing to hold her hand, or perhaps I have, as a flawed man, all the while. I speak these words to resonate myself with guilt. It is…
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Oh, realm of the wicked, where dreams drop from hands like droppings from the bottom of a bird; there is much admiration to stick upon beauty to admire; why withhold what should be offered? Love will lift it, beyond the realm of Men, where flesh is torn and raped. Faces are many that stare with…
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“Your eyes, magnificent in shape; your form is a plaza of many stands, each showing ripened fruit for the occasion; and how I would hold a pair of breasts alike pears to be swallowed whole.”
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“Where loss encourages the will for survival, a human will each believe that there is more to do, more to gain, and more for the stride. Such is how life functions, in contrast to the forced contentment from death. Or, in love? How does love also evoke the stillness of gratitude?” She is the waltzer…
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“Beauty rapidly falls apart when it is not sustained by the support of love.”
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A woman’s heart is to me, the cherished stone. I walk from where I sat, to her face, and bury only myself in her tears. They come out from dark eyes as sweet to taste, for she is happy! Happiness! So alien was the word, whenever I’d writhe in a torment back in my home.…
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Curiosity creates envy. Envy creates lust. Lust creates pride, even should an accomplishment not be made.
Modern Romanticism 