Writing
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Burrowed heart inA faceless finalityWhere heartbeats are heard,To be envied.The walking stainNow writes himself, in a cruel place. She lifts her stateTo his pleasure, put in place.Open, yet stagnant, are his wordsUttered from rotting lips,Mourned over his teeth,Wailing for blood to keep. Cruel, discarded sympathyFalling lower than empathy.An embrace to the venomOf love’s unholy reason.…
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Displaced from my bedside,The moon broken in two,The listless being who belongs withinHas come crawling with pleading handsTo bandage his wounds with the smearUpon the spot where life did sicken,Burying pain in the tears.For what did quicken the heartWas the crawl for the lips, that part, Speaking for the milestone,“No bliss that, for you, would…
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1. Love has nothing to do with consumerism, in that it has nothing to do with division. 2. Love has nothing to do with consumerism, because itself relates to never having a choice. 3. Love has nothing to do with consumerism, because the consumerist mind has more to do with wanting an excuse, being able…
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“How often do the flames stir, when information is withheld? She’s been adored, for the sake that no one else but loving eyes are aware of her existence. She’s been kept secret, locked in a heart. There is no choice. Locked in a heart, for her protection. Imprisoned behind veins, for her prolonged life. With…
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White roaming tide,Blundering through the kissThat wields me, as I screamThrough the awe-inspiring shame.Of myself, to the blissAmong this Heaven I missedWhen aiming for my heart,A dagger for the infinite scar,As I remember you. Our worlds grow, as seasons changeA broken reflection among the sameIdle blood that never stainedA heart, for many moreCould be used,…
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Philosophy – “Why Both Atheism and Christianity should Agree to the Non-Existence of God” – 4/6/2021
“Non-existence has only a place for everything trustworthy. Therefore, wouldn’t we hold trust for what is certain, being of the past, being of what is both dead and not?” – Modern Romanticism If God is said to be of love, then He’d have a relation only to the past, not the future. We stride forth…
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Strewn lilacs at the cutting board,Divided by the subtle awakening of winter,Great storms to conspire againstThe love that ropes the season’s pledgeUpon the testament where life is meantTo arrange itself in pleasure’s edge. A knife to draw the perfect faceFrom the flawed eyes that never leaveGreat perception on beauty’s weaveOf intricacy in its ignited empire.…
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Walk in your kind symmetryAs seasons seek to change you.You are a glimpse of temptation,Stalking what despondence leavesSoaked upon the ground, unseen.Grass blades bend themselves in gravityWeighted in the great future. All dreams of you had been spunTo all that would be undone. Love rows a boat to your shore,Leaving letters for awaiting hands,For a…
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Divide the even space betweenAll of the commanding radianceWhere love conquers the scene,Of life’s own brittle inhabitance.Making music of bitter griefCalls me to my disbelief. Love is a great cradle drawn emptyOf what did grow to reach the moon,Born of a naked vow in eternityWhere life is clean to dispose the gloom.Inborn silence and making…
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“Those who deceive themselves into believing that wealth can bring about happiness, are always those who do not have it.” – Modern Romanticism In comprehension of the two types of wealth, being that of the monetary sort and that of the heart, can allow us to recognize what indeed fills the void of absence. Among…
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What currents sweep me to retreatBack from motions for which she’d churnA soothing mouth with words undone?Senseless sensations on gravity’s pleaTo unite with sacred effigy to burnA life in the great, blissful wide one. Here, the curtains falls to recollectThe dust that laced the distant threads,While light enters through to resurrect. Each storm about her…
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With life yet overturned and crossed,With single exposures to divided clouds,Then for radiance to speak of loss, “Daunted life in situated crowds,Bending with eyes to distant feetFor submission, presented to mouths.” A voice collected itself upon the street,Holding a heart open with matched bloodTo the conceiving love brought in, discreet. As hair falls to match…
Modern Romanticism 