Romance
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It was meant asone last teardropleft to let go,to discard false smilesthat let us get pastthe silent storms.Under the rain,we sheltered our fire,bringing its heatinto our hearts.It was enoughfor hope to stayas our leading flame,our treasured name.But it wasn’t enoughto see Hell awayfrom those spaceswe kneeled to pray.It wasn’t enoughto have what we wanted,with kisses
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I find myselffitting in,falling in with it -this surroundingcircumstance,one that adds pressureto a heart, alreadyseeking escape.In fear, I circulate,while I also hope tofind some wayto get away.There will bewhat puddles I leaveto adorn the trail,before I set sailfar from winter’sconcealed edge.I want to findemerging serenityin this disappearance,holding hands witha smoother extremity.Wide-eyed,being petrified,having lost lines atjagged
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A path for the lostcan remain as one’ssole dedication,can limit redemption,while twists are keptto the windsthat lead them.To search for a cureto a solace, embeddedin sheer darkness,one must dig uptheir darkened heartto bring it to an oceanfor the long swim.Though, to not sink,that same heartmust sing with its rhythmthat keeps life alive.It must embracethe surge,
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A leaf must beseparated from the herd,parted from the restthat fell from the same tree,got lost from the sameoutstretched arm.You’ve alwayscounted up to one,deciding that numberis better than none.You are alwaysreviewing the seasonswithin chaos,where its changeremains your name.You are alwaysunaware of what follows,melted into a shadowstaying as a feverto coat your cheeksin their redness.You last
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It has sudden snowto paint your worldinto a blank slate,while not ever trulycovered up.You’re just quickto revisit a fate,turning your clockbackwards,constantly.Your faceechoes continuityin all the musclesthat lose tensiononly when the snowturns to rain.Go aheadto walk it off,until the moon arrivesto drive you under.Wake up decayinglike when you fellinto another slumber,fading beneath starswhile treasuringyour banquet of
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On that dotted line,unwrite the namethat’s given you blame,that’s not allowed youan able opportunityto ever revise.When will yourefrain yourselffrom compellingthe rain to fallfrom the inside?Storms don’t chaseafter your streams,colored in black.You are the onewho forever runsfor the clouds.Straining your songwith your pleas,with your bargaining.It’ll remain aroundif it helps youto coincide.You’ve misused your voice,dissolved yourself of
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Misted windowwhere eyes are metwith a dim reflection,that is whereyou have foundyour lair,your lie.If those echoesfrom your screamscome back,returns to you,what will you do?What could you doonce it is firethat has given youthe means to seewhere you’re wounded,temporarily?This isn’t eternitythat you see,because this is notwhere spacereserved roomfor your grace.If you want,I could drag it out,just
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Spill from your eyesthe sequences,the sympathyfor what you knowI will do.You reflectfrom within tears,the strangenessin all that circumventsthe true poisonthat circulates.It instigates,as you anticipatethe added fractureto an old woundthat never mends,until it is youwho doesn’t pretendthis isn’t for show.Others have giventheir dose of concern,others have addedtheir color to the patternwhere pain ripples,where peace fadesinto stardust.You’ve
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Raining onwhat I’ve reined inall I’ve reigned,while losing controlof the surges,disassembling towersto welcome dirges.This is an oceantoo blue, never newwhile its oldnessaccompanies its coldness,floods itself on woundsI’ve left untended.This is a reflectioncoming into aged light,while losing lusteroutside of a vowtaken without awarenessof what’s forsaken.With all hopeI’m losing sight of,there’s never anythingI cannot repeat,like a heartbeatthat
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Our devoted spacehadn’t its worth,going from its straight,decided lineto a compilationof curves,of twists.It wasn’t longuntil we were hangingfrom that prior line,forming the curves,the twistsfrom our time spentin the wind.It wasn’t longuntil we were reusingthe same promisefrom the same story.When it wasn’t longuntil we’d becomemere ashes in the wind,we relit our firefor one more time.We reignited
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It’s a pairof dark eyes,where radiancenever wantsto enter.It’ll intrudeonto her secrecy.It’ll pushuntil she’s fallingover her crafted cliff,diving for painin an ocean.It’s the historyshe’s tracingwith the scars,those that adornher sacred identity.She protectswhat’s mere leavesthat fell from upin her stolen skies.Love can remake her,thunder would wake herat the briefest sparkthat comes closeto burning awaythe taint,the paint that
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It was the push,the screamthat told usour sentencing.It’s too inevitableor outright acceptable,while we’re floatingfor some distant promise,made withouta clinging beginning.Covered in shells,unable to discernits weightfrom the infinite petalswith their absent fragrance,their present discoloration.Cornered in Hell,losing sight of the lightthat let us enjoyeach unleashed breathbefore seeing them turninto blinding fog.I still want to kiss,even thoughall that
Modern Romanticism 