Nodame's_Ballad

Category: Contemporary Romanticism

  • Two of Us

    Want to obscure the twilight,

    My eternity to be moonless.

    Want to break through the genesis,
    
My curses to be burned to dust.

    Want to cyberpunk the province,

    My brief intoxications to be coded complete.

    Want to parch-dry the verdant haven,

    My ecstasy highs to be soaring magic carpet.
    
Want to feel the Joseon of immortality,
    
My impure soul to be etched on deific hwa.
    Want to kiss the cultural taboos,

    My visions to be perpetually kind.

    Want to untie the earthly sinners,
    
My salvation to be their freedom.
    Want to embrace the ending,
    
My final breath to be unkind.
    Want to hear the innocence,
    
My prayer to be unheard, everywhere.

    Yet I needed only you
,
    To be indifferent to all the above.
  • Shakti

    Shakti


    Her unmoved valiance, lionhearted —
    Ethereal spotlights wither as her chaos brew.         
    she dwells in all lineages, all awakenings,
    She breathes through all origins, all destiny
    She thrives in all wounds, all ascensions    .
    (more…)
  • Echoes of the Forged Soul 

    Echoes of the Forged Soul 


    Pity and love walk hand in hand—
    Did you want love out of pity,
    or because you couldn’t bear
    to turn that pity inward?

    READ MORE
  • Love Happens

    Love Happens

    Standards like golden hour
    slightly blinded, yet warmth you enjoy.

    Depths unfathomed,

    the dawn of her ballads never seems to end.

    Her love—maddening,
    
whilst lacking an elder’s counsel.

    does shallow walk through delusions

    as her love sickens.
    Dormant Venus, visible on canvas,

    as her plot thickens.

    Yet again, Miss Lovespring longs 
for 
    the upcoming chirps and sun-dips.

    Nevertheless, blushing and rushing with limerence,

    it seems the nightingale’s spell
 
    charmed the picky.

    Cosmos of the dark, Hera in the light—

    her go-tos these days.

    Like an eldritch soul
    
ready to unravel.
    Ancient in bloom,

    yet a familiar cliché—

    the breeding season never seems to end.

                                  - Nodame