A poem. *Ahem*
In the realm where Cupid's arrows fly, where Psyche's love unfolds beneath the sky, I found a feeling that's deeper than mere sound, a sense so fierce, it's the heart's serenade, lifelong.
Beneath the neon lights, does swell a Romantic Music dream, in the hallowed space where devotions come clean, I met two men with eyes like a starless night, whose drift, like poetry, set my soul alight.
One had a voice, a spectrum of desires untold, reeling stories of confession and hearts uncontrolled, like a haunting lullaby in the moon's embrace, his words, like whispers, unveiled a secret place.
One, the other, moved with grace, in a dance did he conspire, in the shadows, his gestures ignited like funeral pyres, like a dream in the night, so deep and intense, hot-wired hearts entwined, our bond immense.
I embraced their glamour like a kiss of starlight, in this empty world, we found our groove, with them, my heart blossomed, like roses in June, thriving in the depths of fate's soft monsoon.
Through the ethereal sounds of distant lands, in the world of hushed melodies and shifting sands, our bond, like a dreamy reverie, it did unfold, a lark of spirit, a recital so bold.
We danced in a daydream, where echoes hide, wrapped in a shimmering veil, a radiant tide, like a gentle lullaby, it held me secure, a summit serene, a tender allure.
They wore their grief like a velvet sea, like Beach House, they cast a dreamy reverie, our link, like Blue Nile's gentle flow, defied convention, and it made me glow.
An inferno in a disco embrace, melody as completion, time without space, a vivid HTRK case, in a secret suite, forge a bitter cry, soft and complete.
So here's to this Romantic Music, exhumed, with you, I've found a joy that's beyond review, a sound that's as enduring as the silent night's grace, a cracked oracle, a wish fixed in place.
In the end, their's is like an eternal refrain, a post-punk grudge, condensed dream pop plane, like a vintage record, its grooves are cold to the touch, but even the cynics admit, this shit is pretty clutch.
