Sad Poetry
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Division, parting ways witha decision. Hearing still,when you wake, when you scream,falling at what might beyour final breath. I still yearnto catch you, in these arms,which are still burninglike the boughs of a tree,caught in its blaze. I still keepwith what remains unitedamong cherished dreams,where kisses swelled,upon our wings, where we soldour hearts, being nakedin
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Distant scars,like loosened rainfall.Present memories,like these forever fields,running with those trickles, from a lost pairof extinguished eyes. I still yearn to keep youcaptured, in these arms –ones that have roamed,forever, to meet you, to greet youwhile you are findingother ways, to treat yourself. I am losingsight, of a little candleflame,though I wantto keep the present
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Abandoned spark.Hoping. If everything can beall that we, carried in heart,time can stop. Let it be –another cessation at the demonstration,one more kiss, drawn inlike breath that moved a petalfrom a rose,hardened into bleak metal. Lowered eyes.Watering our earth,in our cries. Why elsecan what supports usbe shifting? Why else,with many more breaths,can our views, what
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Miss Beauty,With all radiance to spend,Like what the sun does, to spread color,As you have done, to my mind of black and white. In losing you,My mind has turned to grey. I sought to see your hips move with the wind’s twists,And hear your sighs among the delicate sheets. Love was once all to be
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What fiend has caressed my shoulders,Besides the loneliness, I feel within my heart?It is yet a monster, without the need to sleep,Without the will to heal. She lays there, for my eyes to behold her presence,For my view, for my corrupt and trembling hand,To mimic her dashing and golden figure,Upon the life I aim to
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Little birdWho weeps, and still creates songAfter bloody songIn her bath of red-colored water,As her garbs lie heaped upon one another,On the floor, outside of reach. I saw what twisted my vision,A hue in a bath of waterAnd it was the color of the sun, yet without the warmth,For a knife has drawn evenlyOver the
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Depression is a current moment, for youWhen you dip tears into the bowl of failure,I have not been good to you.But, I will surround you, in the venom of friendship.I will surround youIn the thorns that have been, all to us,The things we recognize,Are to us,The wilderness of sheer belief. We are not for us,But,
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Rain comes as the fewest petals,To break themselves upon the shores of my cheeks,I had loved you, with all the grains upon my heart,I felt your suffering, for what it truly was,Though, I am alone.I am alone, without you.I am alone, to kiss my own tears, in this bleakness.In this winter of my heart, where
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I once craved the song,The words from her parted and heavy mouth.The little seeds that I bled into her womb,Were only the lives I slew away to the tomb.I once craved the song,The grave where I felt her belong.She was a mere ghost laying heavyAlike the lips, that were too, parted and hanging,Like the two
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For every punishment,For every sin,For every kiss,For every period of denial,We are the thorns without the rose,Just merely the pain, without the bliss.And without faith,We weren’t there with sincerity to each kiss. I am breath,I am bone,I am death,And I am stone.The rocks upon your shoreline,And the thumbscrews on your outline,You are pinned,And I am
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We are revealed, before an Earth that has concealedIts face for too long.Here is place we’ll both escape to, in the realm of our disgrace,Death is a final place, that we both had to face. We stared into Death’s face,And spat upon it.Now when love is still culled, like one population too overgrown,Like thistle become
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Amorous, you are, upon my lips,In our love thrown together,Like two stones against their white surfaces,Like two faces that clash in untold heat,Like two moons that beat upon the other, their doors made of stone,Like two chins that rub the other, each surface made of bone. We are for the other,As the love thrown together.Kisses
Modern Romanticism 